


12 Grimmauld Place

by space_sauce



Series: Gay Dads Verse [1]
Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Marauders - Fandom, Wolfstar - Fandom
Genre: Established Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sirius and Remus are gay and ridiculous and great dads, in these trying time we have to make the gay content jk refuses to, in this house we raise Harry Potter with love and respect, i’m gonna use the au to shift a lot of character development around, making a safe space for everyone to heal, moony and padfoot raise harry au, sooooo much comfort from pre-fic hurt, why not have it all?, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:54:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23263540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/space_sauce/pseuds/space_sauce
Summary: Alternate Universe where Harry is raised by his gay godfathers: Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. This is a fic about Moony and Padfoot learning how to heal in the wake of the first wizarding war.Other aspects of the cannon divergence in this AU will be explored in additional fics.
Relationships: Sirius/Remus, wolfstar - Relationship
Series: Gay Dads Verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2160834
Comments: 65
Kudos: 205





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Horatio_Air_Horns](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Horatio_Air_Horns/gifts).



> Gonna start with an original character for prologue. Then I'll bounce around Sirius & Remus POVs, eventually adding in Harry’s among others...

**Monday 14th December, 1981**

Agatha Fawley stood outside of the Ministry of Magic finishing the last bits of her lunch. She was a tall middle aged witch with short buzzed hair and ebony skin, wrapped in a large yellow tartan scarf. Agatha closed her eyes to the sunshine and rested her head against the stone behind her. Though her coat was charmed for warmth it didn’t do much to fight off London’s unseasonably cold winter. Even in the bitter weather, she’d rather take a few more minutes to absorb the calm Muggle world of London than step back into the chaos of the Ministry. 

The city was bustling in front of her, muggles tightly bundled in scarves and hats walking quickly to get out of slush left over that morning’s snow. Agatha envied them, she longed for a break from this war. Just to forget for a moment. Guilt hit her in the stomach, she was one of the lucky ones. How many witches and wizards had they lost to You-Know-Who? She’d already placed dozens of orphaned children for the Ministry, with more waiting. Resolute, Agatha opened her eyes and pulled an ornate silver pocket watch from inside of her coat. 

The watch had a number of funny and complicated looking dials on its side. At the center of its face were hands indicating the time and on the outer rings listed her corresponding daily agenda. She rolled the first dial and read through what she had scheduled the rest of her day. Her next appointment would be one of the most important in her career. Agatha had twenty minutes to get to Madam Amelia Bones’ office. She snapped the watch shut with a sigh, her breath fogging in front of her, and headed back into the remains of London’s once great wizarding government. 

Since the death of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named on Halloween The Ministry had been running on high alert. All entrances and exits shut down except for the main gateway at Whitehall. No Floo or Apparition, everyone had to enter by foot. Several Aurors stationed at the security desk to observe all wand registrations and verifications. 

Agatha entered to find an exhausted looking Dawlish behind the desk. He was a young Auror, though he didn’t look it, with circles under his eyes and a familiar haunted expression. Agatha knew that look well, she’d seen it reflected back in her bathroom mirror many mornings, it was a hard one to shake. 

“Back already Fawley?” He smiled up at Agatha. 

“Oh, you know it.” 

She set her briefcase on the desk, Dawlish tapped it with his wand causing blue smoke to emitted from the case. He seemed satisfied with the color. 

“What are you doing here alone?” Agatha asked looking at the empty chairs next to him. 

“They needed extra Aurors for the Lestrange trial and Macmillan ran to the loo.” The Auror rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed with his companion. 

Agatha couldn’t blame him, working this position without backup was dangerous, “Don’t let Moody find out.” 

Dawlish raised his hands, “You don’t have to tell me. I warned him!” Clearly put out, he carried on, “I wish I was working the courtrooms today. I wanna watch them send that bitch to Azkaban.” 

“At least you got to work the Black proceedings.”

His eyes lit up, “Oh I’ll never forget them!”

Agatha couldn’t help but be jealous, the trials of Sirius Black had been groundbreaking at the Ministry. The day after You-Know-Who was vanquished Sirius had been dragged into custody for blowing up a city block to hunt down Peter Pettigrew, killing 12 muggles in the process. 

Once on trial, it was clear that his crimes were even more sinister. Dumbledore himself revealed that Sirius had turned traitor to the Order of the Phoenix, spying for You-Know-Who. He confirmed that it was Sirius who betrayed James and Lily Potter as their secret keeper. The once beloved member of the Order of the Phoenix was on trial as a top ranking Death Eater. Every living member of the Wizengamot had been in attendance. The trials went on for hours and right at the end, when it looked like Black would be sentenced to life in Azkaban, Remus Lupin burst into the courtroom with a rat which was revealed to be Pettigrew. 

After that truths came pouring out: Sirius, James, and Peter’s unregistered Animagus forms. Remus Lupin’s status as an unregistered werewolf. The mistrust within the Order of the Phoenix resulting in Peter becoming secret keeper instead of Sirius. Peter’s ultimate betrayal. The fall of You-Know-Who. The list was quite impressive, needless to say, Rita Skeeter had a field day reporting the whole affair. Agatha devoured every article, it was so rare to get any kind of silver lining from the Daily Prophet. Sirius Black was pronounced innocent and Peter Pettigrew sent to Azkaban. 

“Yeah, none of us will be forgetting that anytime soon.” Agatha replied, shaking the memory away and looking back at Dawlish. 

“Speaking of, aren’t you meeting with Sirius Black today?” He held up a sheet of parchment, “I’ve got him on the list, due any minute.” 

“Like I said, _I’m late_.” She spoke pointedly, not answering his question. 

Dawlish raised his eyebrows but stayed silent. He was waiting for her to produce her wand for inspection. Embarrassed, Agatha realized her wand was in her briefcase. She’d been reading over paperwork during lunch and tossed it in absentmindedly. Ministry protocol was to keep it within arms reach at all times. Bristling, she opened the case. 

“Agatha, really? You _know_ you should keep it on your person in times like these.”

“Yes. I’m aware.” Agatha exhaled shifting through her notes. 

Dawlish noted the file on top labeled HARRY JAMES POTTER, he gave her a knowing look. Agatha snapped the case shut and handed her wand over to be weighed. Then with Dawlish’s approval she cast a Patronus to confirm it was indeed her wand. 

Agatha’s ghostly hummingbird zoomed around the room. It was a small comfort; she let its warmth wash over her for just a moment before turning to the Auror and pocketing her wand exaggeratedly. He nodded approval, she tried not to roll her eyes. As little as she fancied being told off by a 20 year old Auror, he was right. In times like these... 

“Good luck with the Potter case!” Dawlish called as Agatha rounded the corner and entered the first elevator. 

Annoyed, she pressed the knob a bit harder than necessary. Agatha was hoping to keep Harry’s custody case as low profile as possible. But now she’d be surprised if it wasn’t all over the Ministry by supper, Auror Department being the shameless gossips they were. 

The elevator halted announcing, “Level 1: Minister for Magic and Support Staff.” The doors slid open and several owls swooped in, perching themselves importantly on their designated railings. Witches and wizards zipped past the elevator with stacks of parchment, but no one boarded. The owls hooted impatiently as the doors closed, Agatha noticed that one had already shit on the elevator floor. 

“Bloody interdepartmental memos.” Agatha complained, vanishing the droppings, as the elevator resumed its descent. “There has to be a better way, even the muggles have those telephones.” 

“Level 2: Department of Magical Law Enforcement” The elevator announced as the doors opened again. Agatha exited with two owls flying past her into the Auror Headquarters. One clipped her head with its wing, she stared daggers after it. 

The Auror Department was abnormally vacant, rows and rows of empty Auror office cubicles. She realized everyone must be watching the Lestrange case. After what Beletrix had done to the Longbottoms, the entire Department was personally invested in her punishment. 

Agatha understood, the state of Frank and Alice was devastating. She'd seen them yesterday at St. Mungo’s while granting Ministry approval for their son to be placed with Frank’s mother. Alice had always felt so strong to Agatha, good natured and unflappable, the kind of Auror who put you fully at ease. Agatha felt her heart ache, at least she was able to place Neville with family. 

Looking over the vacant desks she wondered how many would remain empty once all the Aurors returned from court. Had they cleared out the Longbottoms desks yet? Would a young new Auror be filling it soon? Agatha turned away from the thought and headed south down the hallway to the Wizengamot Administration Services. 

The department was eerily just as empty. Amelia Bones must be the only council member not in attendance. They’d agreed on the time of this meeting last week and it showed the utmost respect for Madam Bones to honor it. Agatha was relieved to have such a stable Wizengamot member prosiding on this case, she knew it would be tricky. It didn’t hurt that Amelia was also a dear friend. 

Agatha walked down the row of offices. Most of the secretaries were scarfing down lunches at their desks surrounded by stacks of paperwork, a few nodded at her as she passed. She waved back politely. 

Before the war Agatha had rarely visited the Wizengamot Administration. As head of the Ministry’s Social Services she spent most of her time monitoring the health and welfare of underaged muggle-born children. 

The Ministry’s codes surrounding wizarding household privacy were considerably more strict. It was nearly impossible to know if a wizarding family was abusive. She’d spent her early career advocating to change such laws, but to no avail. The wealthy pure blood families were famously secretive and well connected in the Ministry. 

In the post-war chaos privacy laws had become more flexible, Agatha found herself with the ability to investigate wizarding households before placement. She knew it wouldn’t last long. So she was working night and day to make sure _all_ her cases were placed in healthy and stable households. In doing so, she’d recently become very familiar with this department and the Wizengamot Council Members. 

Madam Amelia Bones being high ranking, was located towards the end of the row. Agatha approached, surprised to find her secretary’s desk empty. She hesitantly knocked on Amelia’s tall oak door. 

“Come in!” Amelia boomed from inside. Agatha swung the door open to see the severe looking witch sitting behind her large desk covered in parchment and magical instruments. She had several wide leafed plants on the wall behind her, Agatha noticed a floating orb bathing the greenery in delicate sunlight. Rich red walls and oak trim, the office was as lovely as its owner. 

“Agatha!” Amelia smiled, taking the monocle out of her right eye while setting down what she’d been reading. “Glad you beat the boys here.”

“Boys? Is Sirius Black bringing representation?”

“No. Albus Dumbledore will be joining the proceedings.” 

“Oh joy.” Agatha dead panned, then she cracked up. “I can _not_ believe you just called Albus Dumbledore a _boy_.”

Amelia laughed with her, but the light did not last in her eyes. “It’s good to see you Agatha. I wish it was under better circumstances.”

Agatha’s heart fell, “Me too.” 

“I’ve been reading over your report on the Dursley’s.”

“I’ve got Harry’s full case file here.” Agatha cracked open her briefcase to retrieve it. 

“What a monstrous pair of muggles,” Amelia indicated the report on her desk. “I can’t believe Albus left him there. Blood protection or not.” 

“Don’t get me started.” Agatha handed over Harry’s file. “I’ll do my best to be civil with him once proceedings begin.” 

Amelia tucked her monocle back into her eye and opened the thick case file. 

“What do you have on your plate after this?” She asked Agatha while scanning the pages in front of her. Without looking up, Amelia summoned a comfortable looking chair for her to sit in. 

Agatha felt the warmth from their previous conversation disappear. “The Bletchley household.” She stated as simply as possible sitting down. 

That got Amelia’s attention, “The Greyback case?” The two witches locked eyes. 

“Yes, poor child slaughtered his own parents.” To Agatha’s surprise she felt she might cry. “What do you say to a child who’s been dealt a hand like that?” 

Amelia nodded sympathetically as Agatha continued, “Every time I think it can’t get worse..” 

The room fell into silence. 

“I’m in awe of you Agatha. I don’t think I tell you enough.” Amelia pulled a handkerchief out of her robes and handed it across the desk to Agatha. 

Amelia continued, “I have it easy down here. Catching Death Eaters and sending them away. _You_ are caring for our most vulnerable, our future. Don’t you dare think your work has gone unmissed. I know how many muggle-born children you saved during the Dark Lord’s height.”

Agatha winced at his name. “It will never feel like enough Amelia. Not while Tavin Bletchley is waiting for me and Harry Potter is stuck with those wretched muggles.” 

“Well, luckily, _that’s_ something we can fix.”

Agatha caught Amelia’s eyes, they held the look for a moment. Then a voice filled the room. “Madam Bones?” Amelia’s secretary must have returned from lunch. 

“Yes?” 

“HeadMaster Dumbledore and Sirius Black are here for your 1pm.” 

Amelia smiled and whispered conspiratorially at Agatha, “Can you tell my secretary is fresh from Hogwarts?” 

Agatha snorted, rolling her eyes at Amelia, even though she could feel butterflies building in her stomach. All these years later and she still got nervous before case proceedings. She wanted the best for Harry Potter and she was going to get it. 

“Send them in!” Amelia boomed, suddenly her presence felt huge and authoritative. Agatha saw her step into the persona of Madam Amelia Susan Bones, high member of the Wizengamot and rumored to soon be Head of Magical Law Enforcement. 

“We better summon more chairs.” Agatha stated, pulling out her wand. 

~*~*~

**Later that afternoon in Wimbledon…**

Sirius Black stared at the door of Remus Lupin’s flat. The lease was in his name, but the two of them had lived in it together since Hogwarts. It should feel like their flat. It used to. But things had been different since Halloween...since Lily and James… they weren’t really seeing or hearing each other. It wasn’t home anymore. The meeting with Madam Bones had gone well, Sirius was hopeful that he could meet the Department’s guidelines and get Harry back. That felt possible. He was much more afraid of opening the door in front of him. He and Moony had been avoiding this conversation (or any _real_ conversation) since they’d been released from Ministry custody. Sirius pressed his forehead against the cold wooden door and fished around in his coat pocket for the keys. 

Remus was in the living room, balled up in a large armchair reading. Sirius sighed at Moony’s soft curls and somber face. A ribbon of scars ran across his nose and mouth, making him all the more handsome. For someone so tall it was remarkable how small he could make himself in a chair. At Sirius’ entrance Remus slowly closed his book and looked up. 

“Well?” He raised his eyebrows, clearly nervous. 

“Fair witch that Amelia Bones, she sided against Dumbledore and Petunia.” 

“What does that mean? Did she side with you?”

Sirius stripped off his coat and scarf, hanging them on their wooden rack. “Department of Social Services gave me a list of guidelines. I’ll have to pass an inspection with them first.” Sirius started untying his laces “If I pass, Bones said I’ll get him.”

“Are the guidelines written down?” 

Sirius nodded, “Here.” He pulled the folded paper from his pocket and handed it to Remus. The room fell into silence as he looked over the list. It wasn’t a comfortable silence. Sirius used to love silences between him and Moony. They could spend whole afternoons content with each other's presence, no need for words. These days every quiet moment between them was painful, full of regret and hurt, and the silences felt never ending. Sirius raked his hands through his hair, it could use a wash. He was suddenly agitated. 

Remus looked up, “So are you going to buy property for you two?” 

Sirius noted the absence of Remus in the statement, it stung. “No. I inherited Grimmauld Place. I’d like to renovate it, we’ll need the existing protection charms to pass.” Sirius nodded at the list in Moony’s hand. 

Remus looked taken aback. “Your parent’s home?” 

“You and I used to talk about moving back into London proper?” 

“Is this you asking me to go with you?” 

“Why wouldn’t you go with me?”

“Why would I? So we can continue to ignore each other in London proper?” 

“Are you saying you want to abandon Harry?”

Remus inhaled sharply, his eyes furious. But when he spoke his voice was quiet, “I will obviously help you with Harry Potter in any way that you need. I will be there for him until I die.” The word “die” hit Sirius somewhere painful. 

“Then why are you acting like you won’t be living with us?” Sirius replied, fighting the urge to shout. 

“Because we haven’t felt like a couple in months, Sirius! We’ve just been living _around_ each other.” Remus barked back, finally raising his voice. 

“Well we’re both grieving, aren’t we?” It felt so good to finally voice his feelings, Sirius didn’t want to stop. “We’ve been together four years and you want to throw that away over a couple of months of not talking?”

Remus stood up, looking down at Sirius, “How could you?”

Confused, Sirius threw his hands in the air, “How could I what??” 

“Think _I_ was the spy!” Remus roared, finally losing his cool. 

Sirius didn’t know how to respond, they hadn’t spoken about that night yet. Suddenly it hurt too much to think straight. Remus charged on. “I loved you. I forgave you a million times over in our relationship! You were my life Sirius, my future. How could you trust Peter over ME??” 

Sirius covered his face with his hands backing away from Remus. His heart started pounding loudly in his ears. He felt the back of his legs touch the couch and sank into the cushions, tucking himself into a ball, “Why do you keep using past tense?” 

Remus carried on not listening. “How could I have lost you like that?-"

Sirius knew he needed to focus on what Remus was saying, that it was important. But he couldn’t get his heart to slow down. 

"-How could you possibly think I would betray Lily? Or James??” 

At the mention of James, Sirius dragged his face up through his hands to look at Remus. “We didn’t think you were the spy.”

Remus froze, “What?” 

Sirius closed his eyes to take a few slow breaths. When his pulse calmed he opened them and repeated, “We didn’t think you were the spy.” 

“Then why didn’t you tell me about Peter becoming secret keeper?” Remus was completely guarded. Sirius hadn’t received a look like that from Moony in years. “You would only do that if you thought I was the spy.”

“J-James-“ Sirius paused, choking on his best friend’s name. “James wanted it to be a secret from Dumbledore. He knew how important Dumbledore is to you, we didn’t want you to have to lie to him.” 

“Really?” Remus asked in a tiny voice. Sirius nodded and just like that Moony’s guard dropped, he looked down at Sirius utterly wrecked. 

“Moony? Have you been thinking that since Halloween? That we-“ But Sirius didn’t need to finish the sentence it was clear from Remus’ face that was exactly what he’d thought. 

Sirius’ heart broke, he reached up to take Moony’s hand, “I would have eventually told you about Peter. You know how rubbish I am with secrets. But he didn’t give me much time, did he?” Remus knelt in front of Sirius on the floor. He was so lanky, they could meet eye to eye. Sirius continued, “Before he betrayed us...not even a week.”

“James and Lily didn’t think I was the spy?” 

“Of course not love. I promise.” At that Remus’ face crumpled. Sirius let go of his hand to reach out and hold him. Threading his fingers in Remus’ hair and rubbing little circles into his scalp. Sirius carried on explaining, “James was nervous about Dumbledore knowing _everything_ in the Order since there was a spy. I thought it was such a good idea. We thought we were keeping everyone safe.” Tears spilled out onto Sirius’s cheeks, after weeks of avoiding this, he was suddenly crushed with guilt and heartbreak. “You should have been— anyone else should have been— I can’t believe Peter—“ Sirius broke down sobbing before he could complete his thought. Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius, tucking his head into his shoulder and cried with him. For the first time since losing their best friends, Moony and Padfoot finally made space for each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think below.


	2. ‘Down the Dark and Whisperin’ Hall’

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moony and Padfoot try to sort the house out. Friends show up to help!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from Shel Silverstein’s “Haunted”
> 
> It took me a bit longer than expected to get this chapter out. Social distancing is a blessing and a curse to the creative brain...as I’m sure you’re all aware. I send my best thoughts out to everyone during this pandemic. I wish you all health and wellness. 
> 
> Thanks for the positive feed back! 
> 
> Apologies for any typos.

**Tuesday, 15 December, 1981 - Remus**

With a loud _POP_ Remus Lupin suddenly appeared in a vacant alleyway of London’s Islington District. His fingers locked with Sirius’, he had been pulled side-along with the apparition. Fresh snow covered the cobblestones around them. It was the early hours of the morning and nothing had been shoved yet. Though it looked pristine, Remus knew there was bound to be black sludge underneath. 

Sirius took a step, wrinkling his nose at the muck underfoot. “Wish we had Prong’s cloak. Could have just apparated into the square.” 

Remus rubbed their joined fingers, earning a warm smile from Sirius. They both took a moment to feel the weight of James’ nickname. It was such a tremendous relief to finally share this feeling with Padfoot. Last night he was certain he’d never get a moment like this again. It had always been too easy for the young werewolf to believe he’d end up alone, thankfully Sirius was good at holding tight. 

Padfoot pulled out his wand to weather-proof both their boots. While, Remus took a moment to appreciate how great Sirius looked in his leather bomber jacket. Long black hair falling into his face as he _scourgified_ his old beat-up Dr Martens. He’d somehow found a way to make punk rock elegant. Ever since he found The Kinks in their teenage years Sirius loved to dress like a muggle. Used to drive Walburga Black crazy. Remus sighed, in that jacket he could have been The Clash’s 5th member, drove _him_ crazy in an entirely different way. 

“Alright, let's get this over with.” Sirius announced, pulling him out of his thoughts and into the street surrounding Claremont Square. 

Remus had never been to Padfoot’s childhood home. Walburga Black did not allow any of the Marauders to “bring their filth into the most Noble and Ancient House of Black!” Sirius didn’t like to talk about his time there and Remus never wanted to pick at the _really_ painful stuff. Besides, the few childhood stories he’d gotten from Padfoot always left him pissed off with no one to fight. 

The plain brick houses loomed around them, uniform in their lack of any distinct character. With bare trees lining the square and a mat gray sky above them, the neighborhood was rather bleak. Sirius led him towards the south east end. He noted each building was tall and thin; three visible floors and an attic piled on top. 

The pair approached what must have been 12 Grimmauld Place. A broad, important looking, wizard stood in front of the iron gate. He was dressed in rich, dark-green robes and was holding several pieces of parchment. Padfoot squeezed their fingers twice before letting go. Unbothered, Remus tucked his hands into his coat where he could reach his wand. Better safe than sorry around strangers. 

“Mister Bulstrode.” Sirius nodded, arms crossed. 

“Mister Black.” He returned the greeting coldly, then glanced at Remus without acknowledging him. 

“I see your family’s kept out of Azkaban.” Sirius smiled falsely at him. 

“I’d rather skip the pleasantries Sirius, I’ve got a busy day ahead of me.” Bulstrode spat handing over the parchment. 

“I bet you do,” Sirius muttered, looking over the front of the pages. Remus leaned over Pad’s shoulder; it was some sort of architectural ground plan for Grimmauld Place. On the sides were a number of complex numerical runes. Remus tried to take a closer look. He thought perhaps they were equations? 

Bulstrode, eyeing the two gentlemen’s body language, handed over a brass set of keys. He then cleared his throat, “The deed and instructions were intended for Regulus, your mother had yet to update anything before her ... _accident_.” 

Sirius huffed. It seemed the pure-blood families did not like to discuss things as unpleasant as suicide. Or queerness, if Bulstrode’s quick glances at them were any indication. Feeling defiant, Remus bent to set his chin on Sirius’ shoulder as he looked over the ground plan. He could feel Padfoot’s grin, the older wizard was visibly uncomfortable, and Sirius loved to ruffle pure-blood feathers. 

Bulstrode pushed on, “So. All notes and personal writings are addressed to your brother. I did update these two sections,” he pulled two pages from the bottom, “-with your name.” He set them on top of the stack, “Please sign here and here.” Bulstrode produced a black sharp looking quill. 

Padfoot seemed to recognize it, he grimaced and signed the pages. Remus watched as Sirius Black’s loopy signature was carved into the back of his right hand. Then, just as quickly, the cut healed leaving a pink mark in its place. Appalled, Remus couldn’t look away from the scarlet signature on the page below. He had never seen a blood quill up close, most wizarding families stopped using them on official documents decades ago. 

“Very good.” Bulstrode stated, tapping the parchment with his wand to produce a copy. He packed it away in his briefcase, and disapparated without so much as a _good bye_. Remus swung his head around to see if any muggles had noticed, luckily the street was empty. 

Unphased by Bulstrode’s brazen disregard of the Statute of Secrecy, Sirius turned to face 12 Grimmauld Place. “Hello house,” he said grimly.

Remus knew there was nothing but bad memories waiting for him in there. They were going to have to take things moment by moment. He slung his arm over Sirius’ shoulders and whispered in a silly gruff voice, “Oi, Ello Padfoot.”

Sirius exhaled a laugh, “Is that supposed to be the house replying?”

“Obviously.” Remus shrugged, “Don’t you recognize your own house’s voice?” 

Padfoot rolled his grey eyes good-naturedly. He closed the gap between them and kissed Remus softly on the lips. After last night, the two men were making every effort to be gentle with each other. Sirius broke away failing to suppress a goofy grin. Remus smirked, that was the outcome he’d been hoping for. They were going to need as much levity as they could get in the coming days. 

He took in the building before them, “So what should we prepare ourselves for Pads? Slytherin parafernalha?”

Sirius’ eye-roll was no longer good natured, “Too. Much.”

“Old expensive furniture?”

“Wait till you see the troll leg umbrella stand.” Sirius huffed with a distant look of repulsion. 

“Think we’ll find some disgruntled portraits?”

“Volumes! All with shitty opinions and no shame holding them back.” 

“I mean, all that just like Hogwarts to me.” Remus shrugged, “Are there ghosts as well?” 

To his surprise, Sirius brightened, “Just one!” 

“Well, sounds completely manageable for a pair of Marauders,” he stated, running his hand across Padfoot’s shoulders, before opening the iron gate. “Let’s get in there and get Harry back.” 

~*~*~

**Thursday 17 December, 1981 - Sirius**

Sirius stood in the drawing room, looking over the piles for Borgin and Burkes. Old Borgin was “honored to buy any of the Black family heirlooms!” He would be eating those words. Sirius was planning to sell him all of the useless junk, once Alastor Moody removed the dark and cursed items for the Ministry. 

He and Moony had shrunk down all the furniture to store as much in this room as possible. Sirius shook his head. How many snake shaped items did his mother need in one house?? He was surrounded by serpent lamps, chandeliers, door knobs, tables, chairs, candlesticks, umbrellas, a pair of toothbrushes, and they were bound to find more. 

“This is bloody ridiculous!” He thought out loud.

Speaking of, he wondered idly how Moony was handling the Boggart. The third floor had gone suspiciously silent... he’d better check on him in a minute. Feeling scattered, Sirius crossed to the mantle to collect the stack of floorplans they’d be needing. 

Once Remus had gotten over the initial shock of how 'ridiculously huge and scary this place is!' they both turned to deciphering the architectural maps he’d received with the deed. To Sirius’ surprise, they learned that with the correct set of incantations and brass keys, they could unlock several hidden rooms on each floor. Meaning they’d be able to completely manipulate the layout of each level; tucking rooms away and pulling new ones out as they pleased. 

Walburga Black had always been obsessed with order. He could only assume that his mother had the house exactly as she wanted, and saw no reason to change it. But the idea that such a powerful piece of magic was hidden around him his whole childhood was astonishing. To Remus’ delight, they found a Library on the second floor. Sirius had been transfixed with the weird little room, it was bizarre to be surprised by a place he thought would only disappoint him. 

Sifting through the parchment on the mantel, Sirius felt his stomach sink. Behind the maps were several hand written notes and instructions for his brother. Regulus died last year, no one in the family reached out, he had to read about it in The Profit. Sirius pushed that thought down before it could start hurting. He skimmed Walburga’s pristine handwriting. 

‘ _Dearest Regulus,’_

He could not remember a single time his mother addressed anyone with a term of endearment. He couldn’t even imagine what ‘dearest _’_ would sound like coming from her mouth. His thoughts were interrupted by the front bell and subsequent shrieks from her portrait. 

“BLOOD TRAITORS AND FILTH!” Walburga screamed from the hallway. 

_Right on time mum._ Sirius thought, plugging his ears and heading to the front door. He looked through the peephole and saw Mary Macdonald waiting on the stoop. Sirius swung the door open.

“Mary!” He exclaimed, slamming the door to drown out his mother and scooping her into a huge hug. 

“Oh Sirius! It’s so good to see you!” She laughed into his shoulder as he swung her around. 

“When did you get back?” He asked, setting her down. Mary had been forced to flee the country last Summer. On Dumbledore’s instructions, she’d moved her muggle husband and their child to hide with her mother’s family in Ethiopia. The threat had been placed on them rather suddenly, but Lily still managed to throw a farewell gathering. If he closed his eyes he could see the memory of Mary bouncing a giggling Harry in her arms that night. It felt like years ago. 

“ _Late_ last night! We had to travel back on muggle trains for Alex-“ Sirius thought fondly of her husband “-since the bloody Ministry has suspended port keys. I left him with the baby, I imagine they’ll nap most the day away.” Mary sighed, rubbing her face. She tried to brighten, “But I came straight here to help once I heard about the situation with Harry.” 

“How did you hear about Harry?” 

“Trusty old Auror Department.” Mary forced a smile, “Emmeline Vance filled me in on... everything.” What little smile was there, left her face. 

They stood in silence for a moment as the ‘ _everything’_ filled the space between them. Mary looked nervous, she was ringing her hands. She had gotten darker during her time away, her tight curls pulled back into a wide ponytail. She looked healthy but not happy. Sirius wrapped her in another hug, he’d missed her so much. A short burst of tears spilled out of her and onto his shoulder; but Mary quickly recovered, pulling back and shaking her head. 

“Once that starts, it won’t end.” She said matter of factly, wiping her eyes. “What do you need help with in there?” 

Sirius turned to the door, “Lets see if my mother’s stopped shouting.” 

“Huh?” Mary questioned but as he cracked the door, Walburga’s shouts provided the answer.

“That racket’s your mum?”

“Just her portrait. She off-ed herself in November.” He tried to sound nonchalant, “Bit of an overreaction to the fall of _The Dark Lord_.” Sirius threw some sarcasm on Voldemort’s old title. 

Mary shook her head. They both knew it wasn’t funny, but she was generous enough to let the subject lie. “Alright, then lead the way.” 

Bracing themselves to the noise, they crossed the threshold and into Gimmauld’s dark entryway. Rows of dusty outlines covered the long hall. He and Moony had removed all of his family’s portraits except for his mother’s. 

“SIRIUS ORION BLACK! YOU FILTHY BLOOD TRAITOR!-” She wailed from the bottom of the staircase.

“Does _Silincio_ not work?” Mary shouted, Sirius shook his head. 

“-SHAME OF MY FLESH-“ Walburga continued. 

“We can’t get her off the wall!” Sirius informed Mary loudly, “She’s used a permanent sticking charm! Moony’s tried a list of counter charms.”

“-HOW DARE YOU BRING A VILE MUDBLOOD INTO THE NOBEL AND MOST ANCIENT HOUSE OF-”

Mary held her hand up to the wall around his mother’s portrait. “I wonder how deep it goes?” She squinted at the archaic green wallpaper. “I bet we could just cut her out!” She shouted over the tirade. 

As soon as the words left Mary’s mouth, Walburga sputtered to a stop. 

“Cut me- What??” His mother looked aghast at the idea. 

Sirius beamed, “You’re a genius Mary!” 

“Yeah, I’ve got that filthy muggle thinking-outside-the-box blood.” She slung at Walburga while thumping her between the eyes. 

~*~*~

**Saturday, 19 December, 1981 - Remus**

Remus sprawled his legs out on the stairs below him, he could nearly touch the ground floor. It had been a week since the full moon, so his joints were feeling much less achy. His muscles, on the other hand, were freshly exhausted from his many trips up and down the stairs. But the bedrooms were finally cleared! He thought victoriously. Well, except for the Regulus’ room, Padfoot seemed to need some extra time with that one. 

They’d been working like madmen all week, cleaning and moving rooms around. Sirius was dead impressive with a _locomotor_ spell. He’d floated down all of the fourth floor furniture that afternoon. Borgin couldn’t come soon enough, the front parlor looked like a snake fetisher hoarding wet-dream. Grimacing at the thought, Remus laid his head back on the steps behind him. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but he was reclined and that was something. 

Mary popped her head out over the fourth floor banister, “Did Sirius leave already?” 

“Yep!” He called up to her. Mary had been a godsend, checking in on them everyday, helping with what she could. 

“Alright. I’m almost done with the cleaning charms up here! Wanna grab a bite?” 

“Can’t. Moody is due to swing by any minute.” 

“Right! Then I’ll get takeout. What’d you want?” 

“Indian?” 

Mary nodded, “Green curry for Sirius?”

At his thumbs up she disappeared back into the landing. Remus closed his eyes, he was certain that if he just remained still enough, he could nod off…

Startled awake by a loud knock at the door. Remus pushed himself up, wondering vaguely how long he’d been out. He spotted a brown bag of take out on the steps by his waist. There was a note taped to its front: 

‘ _Headed home to check on my_ _other boys. See you tomorrow! xx -Marry’_

Merlin, he must have been more tired than he realized. The knocking at the door intensified. Muscles stiff, Remus climbed himself vertical and headed towards the sound. A quick glance through the peephole confirmed that it was Moody. He opened the door, disoriented by the lack of sunlight. 

“You really should be using a password Remus!” Moody barked. “At least until I’ve got your new protective enchantments in place.” 

“Good to see you too, Alastor!” Remus greeted the head of the Auror Department, waving him into the house. 

The scar covered wizard held up a hand, “Not until we’ve exchanged questions.”

Remus tutted, “We’ve got a protective charm at the gate, I _know_ you saw it.” But Moody’s disapproving grunt told him there was no point in fighting it. “Okay, let me think.” 

Remus noticed Alastor had finally received the replacement for his eye. He’d been waiting on a custom job from a mutual friend. The Auror’s right eye was now bright blue and appeared to be moving around the socket of its own volition. Not at all lining up with his left. It was quite disturbing, but also served as inspiration for a security question. 

“Who did I recommend you to, for your fancy new eye?”

“Jordan Tavin.” He responded seriously, then broke into a grin, “Glad to see you like it!” 

“Yes. And like it, I do.” Remus lied. As if provoked, the eye immediately swiveled to focus it’s stare on him. Unnerved, he quickly diverted. “What’s my question Alastor?” 

Moody took on an air of suspicion, “When did I last see you?”

“Sunrise, last Saturday. You let me out of my Ministry cell, after the moon.” Remus didn't want to sound bitter, but it creeped in regardless. 

His answer seemed to satisfy Moody, “Glad to have you finally registered!”

“Yes. Well. That was always the plan... once the war was over.” Remus lied again. The eye wouldn’t drop his gaze. Sirius' trial had forced him to reveal his werewolf status to the Ministry. He would have preferred to keep his secret out of the Animagi confessions, but there hadn’t been time to think through alternatives. Remus had a creeping suspicion the eye could tell. 

Either way, Moody didn’t seem to be bothered, he limped into the House taking in the bare walls, freshly stripped of wallpaper. “I’ve been hearing rumors around the Ministry that Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures will be reaching out to you for a job soon.”

Remus blanched, “I haven’t heard anything from them.” A job in that department sounded like a nightmare to him, he hoped it wasn’t too evident on his face. 

“The Ministry could always do with employing another Order member. What happened here?” Moody asked, pointing at the large hole in the wall where Walburga used to hang. 

Happy for the subject change, Remus took on a wicked grin, “Oh nothing... We just had to cut the late Mrs. Black’s portrait out of the wall.” 

Moody barked out a laugh, “Bet old Walburga loved that.” 

“It was glorious, Alastor! You should have seen her face when Mary brought in the muggle saw.” 

“Salt in the wounds!” Nodded with approval. 

“Shall we go up?” Remus crossed to the stairs to grab the takeout bag. He’d pick at the appetizers while they worked. “I figured we could start with the boggart.” 

Moody’s magical eye vanished up into the top of his skull, “Looks like there’s a number of nasty things all over this place.” 

“What can I say? Fucking Blacks!”

“Certainly wouldn’t catch _me_ dating one,” Moody threw a playful jab at him. 

Caught off guard, Remus laughed. Alastor Moody in a joking mood was a rare treat. “What’s got you in such good spirits?”

“Oh!” Moody rubbed his palms together, “We’ve finally got enough evidence to bring Lucius Malfoy in! Your boy Black should keep an eye out for a witness summons.” He wiggled his scarred eyebrows. “Now let’s celebrate with a boggart!” 

Remus scoffed at him, “You complete nutter.” 

~*~*~

**Thursday, 24 December 1981 - Sirius**

Sirius gazed out the attic window, they were definitely in for more snow tonight. Thick expanses of cloud covered London like a blanket. If he squinted he could see Big Ben lit up. A memory hit him hot and fresh: Climbing on the lions of Trafalgar Square with Regulus. He was young, maybe 9? Andromeda had been watching them. He couldn’t remember why they were there in the first place. His mother surely would not have condoned something like that. So many of the memories that were coming back to him felt similarly disjointed, more feelings than plot. 

Being blindsided like that was becoming more frequent. The closer they got to having the house cleared out, the more he kept remembering. Sirius had hoped the opposite would be true. It frightened him, like the worse might be yet to come. Pushing that particular anxiety down, Sirius tore his face away from the window. 

The attic was clean and ready to receive boxes from James and Lily’s home. He and Moony had packed up anything intact that looked valuable for Harry’s inheritance. They were also planning to bring the surviving furniture over. There were so many beautiful pieces of Potter family heirlooms. Items that brought welcome memories with them. Revising summer homework on Fleamont’s writing desk. Eating dinner barefoot and crossed leg on Lily’s coffee table. Maybe once the furniture was in, he’d stop getting hit with so many painful memories. 

Sirius descended the spiral stairs to the fourth floor landing. He took in the space with deep satisfaction. Now that all the rooms were exposed, it felt massive. Three vacant bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a study on this level alone. The ancient banisters transfigured from their old black stain to a warm chestnut and the walls freshly painted smokey blue. His mother would be appalled, Sirius thought happily. 

He took the stairs down to the third floor. There was a drawing room, three more bedrooms, and two baths. All empty and scrubbed clean, except for Regulus’ room. Once Sirius acknowledged it, the closed door felt like a siren in the empty house. The biggest piece of unfinished business. 

Kreature had a panic attack when they tried to clear it out last week. He caused such a fuss that Sirius promised to save it for last. He was _trying_ to be patient with the house elf until they could find him a new situation. Remus was so good with him, took all of his grumbling and slights in stride. Sirius wanted to follow Moony’s lead, but the drivel Kreature spat about him drove Sirius mad. It sounded too much like Walburga. He’d never been good at letting insults roll off of him, _especially_ if they were aimed at those he loved. But priorities felt different with Harry out there waiting for them, so he was trying. 

Sirius felt a mounting tension build in his chest. Now facing his brother’s door, the sense of calm he’d received upstairs vanished. This room would need to be taken care of tonight to keep things on schedule. Harry was waiting. If he got started quickly, he could probably knock it out in a few hours. With a surge of momentum Sirius pushed the door open.

The sight within brought him to a crashing halt. Reg’s room looked exactly the way he remembered. The stupid family crest painted above his bed. He’d always been too good at emulating what their mother wanted. Slytherin banners and colors covered nearly every surface. He’d been an excellent Keeper in school. The space was immaculate, tidy in a way Sirius could never quite get himself to be. Reg’s personality was woven into every detail of this room. 

He crossed to the small fireplace, reaching out to touch the cleaned bird skeletons on display. A collection of four, increasing in size and complexity. Sirius didn’t know anything about bird anatomy. But Regulus had been fascinated as a child, he wanted to work with magical creatures when he grew up. Sirius wondered at what point he let that ambition die? The thought sent him over an edge. He felt his body go numb. He was less in the room and more watching himself stand there uselessly, surrounded by Regulus’ things. He thought absently that crying might help, but his body wasn’t interested. He was somewhere else. 

“Hey Padfoot,” Remus spoke from the doorframe. 

Sirius turned slowly towards the sound. When had Moony come back?

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you.” Remus spoke warily, he looked like he was trying to sort the circumstances out. 

“Oh, I’m fine. I just didn’t hear you come back.” Sirius said vacantly, he still felt out of it. 

“I thought we said we’d wait on this room.” Remus said kindly. 

“I know. I just..” Sirius trailed off looking at Reg’s woven bedspread. Answering questions was starting to feel like too much effort. 

Moony crossed to him, “Where are you at Sirius?”

“I don’t know. I just didn’t expect this room to bother me so much.” 

“Yeah, I remember you said that last time.” 

“Did I?” 

Moony nodded, then reached down to thread their fingers together. “Tell me something.”

“About what?”

“I don’t know, something about this room. About Regulus.” 

Sirius’ automatic response kicked in, “He was Death Eater scum.”

“Tell me something else about him.” Remus rubbed his thumb over their joined knuckles. A familiar and comforting gesture. 

Sirius considered the question, “He was better at lying than me.” 

“That makes sense. What’s something else?”

“When we were little we would write stories together.”

“What kind of stories?” 

Sirius carefully took in Moony’s question. He hadn’t thought about the stories in a very long time. “There was a pirate one I really liked. They all featured lots of magical creatures, Reg was obsessed.” Sirius let a memory wash over him, “I remember mother caught us working on it one time. When we were supposed to be studying. She was furious. Probably about the pirates.” Moony was nodding along, so Sirius continued, “But Reg lied so effortlessly to her, he blamed the tutor. Mother was livid. She sacked her that night. Before Hogwarts he was so good at keeping us both out of trouble.” 

“When did things change?”

“After I sorted into Gryffindor, I didn’t want to be kept out of trouble anymore.” 

Remus smiled fondly down at him, “That sounds like you.” 

Sirius focused in on Moony’s green eyes. They were a stormy sea-green to be exact and perhaps his favorite pair of eyes in the world. Bright and eager when he was laughing. Heavy with exhaustion on the nights leading up to full moons. Crackling with energy when he found a new book to consume. But in this moment his eyes were warm with affection and aimed at Sirius. He squeezed their joined fingers, this moment felt real in his hands, “Hey” he whispered up at Moony. 

“Hey,” he greeted in return. 

Sirius finally felt back in his body. He looked around, “I don’t know what it is about his room I can’t get past.” 

“I don’t think you have to know the answer Padfoot.” 

“But it’s got to get cleared.” 

“Does it?” Sirius was taken aback. Moony pushed on, “There’s more than enough cleaned out rooms in this building. Why don’t we just leave this one?” 

“Lock it away?”

“Why not?” He shrugged, “If it hurts, why muscle through it all right now? You’ve already done so much.” 

Sirius considered it, “Maybe in a couple of years it’ll feel more manageable.”

“Maybe?” Moony stepped towards the door, “Let's take a break.” 

Sirius let himself be pulled through the threshold and into the landing. He instantly felt better in the newly painted space. Regulus wouldn’t even recognize this staircase anymore. Remus wrapped him in a hug. Inhaling Moony’s sweet smokey scent, he let his shoulders relax into the embrace. 

“Want to hear something crazy?” Moony asked without lifting from Sirius’ shoulder. 

“Sure.” He replied, rubbing his nose into Remus’ warm neck. 

“It’s Christmas Eve.”

Shocked, Sirius pulled back “What?”

“I know.” Remus sighed.

“Holy shit. I completely lost track of the days...” 

“Me too. Mary invited us over to spend the holidays with them.” 

“Well that sounds fucking lovely.” Sirius melted at the very thought of spending Christmas at Mary’s cozy flat. Catching up with her husband, opening gifts with her son. Being with people who also missed James and Lily in the same way. The only thing missing was.. “I wish we could take Harry with us.” 

A quiet pain crept across Moony’s face, “Me too.” 

Sirius rallied, he wanted to wipe the hurt away the moment it appeared. “But we’ll have him soon enough.” 

“We will.” Moony agreed and kissed him between his eyebrows. 

Sirius flushed, taken back by how tender the gesture was. He suddenly felt very small in Remus’ arms. “Merry Christmas Moony,” he said, tucking himself into his boyfriend’s chest. 

“Merry Christmas Snuffles.” Moony spoke into his hair, Sirius scoffed at the old nickname. 

“Lets leave all this for tonight,” Moony indicated the walls around them. “We can get a fresh start on Boxing Day.” 

Hand in hand, the two Marauders took the stairs down to find their coats on the ground floor. As Remus reached for the front door, Sirius pulled back, struck with a realization. “We can’t leave until we’ve wished Isla Happy Christmas!” 

A grin broke through Moony’s tired expression, “Of course, what was I thinking?” He and Isla had gotten along like a house fire, appreciating each other's dark humor and shared love of reading. 

Sirius shouted up into the house. “Isla Black! You filthy muggle lover! I need a word!”

His call was met with a voice from below their feet, “What do you want, little baby blood traitor?” 

Sirius laughed at the insult as the ghost of Isla Black floated up from the floorboards. She had died wearing a white lace gown, soaked in splatters of dark blood. With large black curls piled on her head, a square face, and sharp eyes. She was a fierce vision to behold.

“Hiding in the basement?” Remus asked her. 

Isla shrugged her beautiful shoulders, “Just wandering around the kitchens. How can I help you two?”

Sirius swung his hand, joined with Moony’s, happily. The Ghost of Isla Black was by far his favorite inheritance from 12 Grimmauld Place. He’d grown up with her spinning tales of her beloved muggle husband and ridiculing Walburga for her cruelty. His mother had tried several times to exercise her, with no success. Isla was far too clever for Walburga. She held the only _real_ happy memories from his time here. “We just wanted to wish you Happy Christmas before we left.” Sirius said shyly. 

Isla beamed at them both, “Well Happy Christmas indeed! Will you both be taking tomorrow off?” 

Yes.” Remus replied. Sirius felt a guilty pit in his stomach, should they visit her tomorrow? 

“Wonderful!” She clapped, washing his guilt out. “You two desperately need a break. Kreature and I can hold down the fort.” Then she shooed them out into the cold night. Sirius felt warm with gratitude, even in the bitter air. Tonight he would be surrounded by those he loved and soon he and Moony would have Harry. Remus wrapped his arm around Sirius and apparated them out into the night.   
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hang with me! We’re sooo close to getting Harry back!
> 
> Let me know your thoughts.


	3. ‘How Much-How Little-Is Within Our Power’

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ministry inspection is imminent...will they pass??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from Emily Dickinson’s “A Little Life” 
> 
> Thank you to the wonderful @Horatio_Air_Horns for beta reading and listening to all my ramblings. 
> 
> Thanks to all of YOU for reading and leaving wonderful comments!
> 
> There's bound to be typos, my bad...

**Wednesday, 30 December 1981 - Sirius**

On the coldest days in London's recent history, Sirius Black found himself shivering his bollocks off in the back garden. He’d spelled his jacket warm but his nose, ears, and fingers were still frozen. Biting his lip in concentration, he adjusted the position of his wand, as a few stands of dark hair fell out of their tie and into his face. The 21 year old Marauder was nearly finished weaving together a complex enchantment that would allow close friends to apparate onto the yard. 

It had been Minerva McGonagall’s ideas. Grimmauld Place was both unplottable and impossible to apparate into, but she posited that he could create a small opening outside of the physical structure. The beloved Professor, and fellow Order member, had made herself invaluable on the few days she could spare to help them. Without Minerva, they never would have gotten the kitchen out of the damn basement. ‘Bless her,’ Sirius thought everytime he passed it, now situated nicely on the ground floor behind the Parlor. He and Moony did not want to cook below ground and they needed a proper basement to build the panic room...a requirement by the Ministry in the house of all registered werewolves. 

The room in question had, naturally, been a sore spot for Moony. That morning he’d insisted on spending the day alone, building what he called ‘my werewolf cage’ without any help. Against Sirius’ better judgement, he let him. They hadn’t had a proper conversation about being registered yet. Sirius knew from experience that Moony needed time to stew before he could voice what was bothering him. So he was trying to give his boyfriend space, but Sirius couldn’t help the little thorn of worry buried in the back of his mind. He’d needed to remind himself: ‘Hierarchy of needs’ several times already. It was a muggle saying that Mary got from her husband, they’d turned it into the house’s mantra for the inspection: Harry first, everything else afterwards. 

Frozen hands buzzing with magic, Sirius tied off the last bits of the enchantment. He felt his old Hogwarts confidence creep in. It would hold. A smug grin in place, he pocketed his wand and re-tied his long black hair. He couldn’t wait to have Minerva apparate directly into the garden next time she visited. Sauntering through the back door, he planned to rope Mary in for a test run. 

To his great shock, he found her in the front hall talking with Albus Dumbledore. Wind quickly leaving his sails, Sirius wondered wildly if he could just turn around and leave. He hadn’t spoken with Dumbledore since Amelia Bone’s office. It had been a deeply uncomfortable meeting for everyone involved. Sirius’ pride had been wounded by Dumbledore’s insistence that Harry be raised by Lily’s family. He had served him loyalty as an Order member and was after all Harry’s legal guardian, but the older wizard wouldn’t budge. Things escalated, Sirius _might_ have shouted that he was ‘a controlling old git.’ 

Needless to say, Albus Dumbledore was the last person he’d expected to see in his house this holiday. But there he stood in the front hall and Mary (that traitor) was laughing at some anecdote he was sharing. Something about the laughter felt like a challenge, so he stepped forward to meet it. 

“Hello?” Sirius called, pulling the door behind him. 

“Oh I was just about to get you!” Mary smiled overly bright at him, a mild panic in her eyes. “Dumbledore’s just arrived!” She awkwardly lifted her hands to indicate the wizard in front of her. 

“I see that.” Sirius stated, plainly. The hall fell into an awkward silence. 

“Well!” Mary broke the quiet, “I was actually just leaving… Got the baby this afternoon while Alex is at work... so...” 

Dumbledore smiled pleasantly down at her, “Please send my regards to your charming husband and son.”

Mary warmed at his mention of her family. She held her old Headmaster’s gaze, “Thank you so much for looking after us.” An unspoken communication passed between them.

Without warning, a hot flash of anger flared in Sirius. James and Lily had not received the same protection from Dumbledore. But it only lasted a moment before rational thought set in to shame him. Of course he was grateful for Mary’s safety. Then a particularly mean thought added: If _he_ had followed Dumbledore’s instructions, James and Lily would still be alive. Sirius dropped his eyes to the ground in silent humiliation. 

“See you later Sirius,” Mary waved, heading to the front. Behind Dumbledore’s back she mouthed ‘Good Luck’ before shutting the door. 

Sirius made no effort to close the distance between them, “What brings you by, Headmaster?” 

“No need to call me Headmaster,” he kept his tone light. “You’ve been out of school for three years.” 

“Okay, how can I help you Albus?” Sirius added frostily. 

Dumbledore locked eyes with him, blue on grey. He seemed to be considering his words. “Minerva has informed me of the progress you all have made on the house here,” He indicated the midnight blue walls around them. Moony had picked out a beautiful wallpaper for this floor, scattered with tiny gold leaf constellations (he was such a sap for stars.) Dumbledore continued, “I was hoping I could contribute.” He reached into his pocket and presented a small lavender hourglass. 

Sirius tensed, “And why would you want to do that?” 

Dumbledore proceeded cautiously, “My efforts to keep Harry with Lily’s family were in no way a reflection of my opinion of you Sirius. I sought only to ensure Harry’s safety.”

Flustered, Sirius lashed out, “If you think so highly of me then why can’t I be both?”

“Both?” He inquired, “I don’t understand your meaning.”

Sirius wasn’t making sense. He felt childish, Dumbledore could have that effect on him. He made an effort to speak clearly, “Why do you think Harry would be safer somewhere else?” 

“I explained in Madam Bone’s office, the nature of the blood protection I placed on him in Patunia’s care.” 

“Oh come off it Dumbledore!” Sirius barked, his anger bubbling over. “We’re all wizards! We can keep him away from Death Eaters. But safety isn't just about physical harm and you know it.” Sirius thought of Walburga and every cruel word that came out of her mouth. “Harry deserves to be raised by people who love him Albus!” To Sirius’ horror he was afraid he might cry. He didn’t understand why but it felt immensely important that Dumbledore understood this. 

A somber expression darkened the older wizards face, “It is that very idea that brings me here Sirius. I do believe that you and Remus are the two wizards most capable of raising Harry in a loving home.” Sirius had expected another fight, he wasn’t sure how to take the compliment. An awkward silence grew out of the pause. 

After a moment, Dumbledore pushed on, “If you are granted custody, I believe you three will have a long road ahead of you. I would prefer to be seen as an ally in that journey.” He held the hourglass out in the space between them. It was clearly meant to be an olive branch. 

Relief flooded Sirius, “Are you saying you think we’ll get him?”

“Minerva seems to think you will.” 

“And you won’t fight us on it?”

“I have no intention of contesting Amelia Bone’s ruling.” 

Sirius let out a slow breath. Now granted, it hit him fully how important Dumbledore’s blessing was. He didn’t want the powerful wizard before him as an enemy. After losing so many loved ones this year, he had no desire to fight with friends. 

Sirius nodded at the hourglass. “What is that?”

“A device of my own making.” Dumbledore held it between his thumb and index fingers, “With one full turn on each floor it will purify the house without affecting your family’s ancient wards.”

“Purity? How?” Leave it to Dumbledore to show up with something cryptic and instantly alluring. The old headmaster knew the Marauders too well.

“I know you have some very painful memories here.” Sirius’ fingers itched with the desire to cover old scars, he held himself very still. “I have used this item in my own home to smooth traumatic feelings.”

“Are you talking about erasing memories?”

“No, I believe that memories, especially painful ones, are important. This device would simply give those feelings less power in this building.” 

It sounded amazing. Moving rooms around and painting walls had helped, but Sirius would love a way to quiet the memories of his mother’s ridicules and punishments. A way to manage being blindsided with thoughts of his brother. 

“I wouldn’t forget what happened?”

“No, it would just help you sit still with the pain.” Dumbledore clearly spoke from a place of experience. A shared acknowledgment of hurt passed between them. 

Sirius looked down at the hourglass. “We have a ghost upstairs, would that thing bother her?” 

A twinkle entered the old wizard’s eye, “Is she benevolent?” Sirius nodded ‘yes,’ “Then, if she avoids interacting with it directly, she will not be bothered the slightest. Though,” he added, “if moving on from this plane is something she desires, touching it would help her achieve that.” 

Sirius reached out and plucked the instrument from Dumbledore’s hand. His mind reeling with the possibilities it presented. The hourglass appeared to be carved out of crystal. Maybe amethyst? He could see shimmering sand swimming around inside it. “We just turn it?”

“One hour on each floor.” He instructed. 

“Okay.” Sirius agreed, closing his fingers around the small device. Both wizards knew this was a solid step towards peace. 

Pleased, Dumbledore clasped his hands together, “I’ll be off then.”

“You can apparate out in the garden,” Sirius tilted his head towards the back. 

“Excellent.” He crossed to the door, turning before his exit, “Please let me know if I can be of any other assistance.” Sirius gave a curt nod. 

Once Dumbledore departed, Sirius stashed the purple hourglass between a railing of the bottom staircase and headed up to the second level. 

“Isla?” He asked the empty landing, “Are you around?” He and Moony had tucked away all the extra rooms, leaving their bedroom, a wash closet, and the library. 

“In here,” She called through the cracked Library door. The room within was quickly becoming a house favorite. 

Sirius entered the warm sunlite library to find the ghost of his great great aunt looking over a scroll Remus had, no doubt, left propped open for her. He took in the cozy space: an ornate fireplace framed with large comfy chairs, Isla perched at the round table scattered with parchment. They’d picked a rusty red paper for the walls, patterned with plants and birds, it provided a nice pop of color between the tall bookshelves and twin windows. Remus said it reminded him of their old common room. 

Isla looked across the table at him, “Yes?” 

Now that he was up here, Sirius found the question difficult to ask. “Um… Dumbledore just stopped by to drop-”

“Oh, you’re talking to him now?” Isla interrupted, raising an eyebrow. He’d vented to her at length about the proceedings in Amelia Bone’s office. 

Sirius rubbed his neck, embarrassed, “Yeah I caved. He gave me his version of an apology.” 

“Then by all means,” Isla shook her head in disbelief. Being quite steady herself, she always found his fluid emotions amusing. “What brought the young Headmaster by?” 

Sirius snorted, she loved to show off her age. “Oh. Well, after he confirmed that Remus and I will be excellent godfathers.” Isla scoffed at his bragging, “He offered to help us. Dropped off this hourglass thing to purify the house with.” 

“A purification sounds reasonable,” she replied, “What with our history.” 

“Well,” Sirius started, “I think, if you wanted, you could choose to... move on during the process.” 

Her composure faltered, “Move on?”

“Well I know you’ve haunted Grimmauld for-“

“-a hundred years.” She injected, crossing her gloved arms. 

“Yes, a long time.” He regarded her kindly, “If you wanted to be done. To see your husband. I would understand.” 

A shadow fell over Isla, she knitted her dark eyebrows, “That is certainly a great deal to consider.” 

Sirius hoped this would be a comforting decision for her. He’d grown up with the clever ghost telling silly stories and providing dry commentary for Walburga’s pure-blood rants. She pissed off every single family he hated and helped him see that he would be okay after he was sorted into Gryffindor. Eventually, when his mother pushed punishments too far, she assisted in his escape to the Potters. Sirius wanted to return all those good deeds to her and more. 

Isla hummed, weighing her options, “I’ve been fighting my family for so long...” Sirius felt the grief of another loss at the edges of his heart. If she wanted to go, he would miss her dearly. She cut through his thoughts, “And I do desperately want to see Robert.” Isla seemed to have landed, “But if I’m honest Sirius, I’d like to stay.” 

“Really?” He could hardly believe his luck. 

“Certainly,” a smile crept at the corner of her lips, “I want to see the ripples of the change you’re making little one."

His heart tightened, she made it sound like he was doing something big and important. His thoughts drifted to Harry. Maybe that was exactly what they were doing? 

“Besides,” Isla added, “I’m not going to leave now that I’m finally haunting a place I enjoy being in.” She turned back to her scroll, as if that was all that needed to be said on the matter. 

“Well you know we’re grateful to have you,” Sirius turned to let her read in peace. A thought stopped him in the door, “Oh, once you’re done there, would you mind checking on Remus?” 

“Why can’t you do it yourself?” She asked, not looking up. 

“He wants to be left _alone_ while he’s down in the basement building his werewolf cage.” 

That captured her attention, “Is he giving himself a hard time?” 

“Exactly, would you mind disrupting it a bit?” Sirius asked nicely, “He likes you too much to get annoyed with you.” 

Isla savored the compliment, “I’ve been meaning to get his opinion on this particular charm theory anyway.” She indicated the writing in front of her. 

“Doesn’t it bother you to read about something you can’t do anymore?”

“Darling, the only things I can do anymore are observe and express opinions. I made my peace with not doing things years ago.” She said as if it was the simplest of ideas but Sirius couldn’t imagine a less satisfying way to live. 

“Oh, I’d go mad.” 

“Yes. I believe you would.” She chuckled, “Now go find more things to _do_ before your Ministry inspection tomorrow.” There was some hidden joke in there. But Sirius didn’t let it bother him, Isla found a lot of strange things funny. 

“To each their own.” 

Done with the disruption, Isla started waving him off. “Thanks love!” He threw over his shoulder as he left. 

~*~*~

**Thursday Morning, 31 December 1981 - Remus**

After a short and dreamless night’s sleep, Remus was harassed into consciousness by a persistent scratching on glass. Confused, he squinted into the sunbeam positioned across his face. They’d forgotten to pull the curtains last night and therefore bright morning light was flooding through their tall windows. He grunted, lifting his head from the pillow and trying to orient himself. Sirius was balled up, hidden underneath the comforter. Remus could feel shallow breathing on his waist. 

His eyes swept the room for the source of the noise. Two barn owls were perched on the windowsill. Feeling quite lazy and not wanting to get up, he rolled over to find his wand. Under the covers, Padfoot reached after him. He smiled down at the fitful lump that was his boyfriend, sleeping just like a dog. He continued his search, not concerned with waking Sirius, the man could sleep through an air raid.

Both their wands had been discarded on the bedside table. It was a boxy 60’s muggle piece he’d received from his mum. One of her many housewarming gifts when he and Pads moved into their flat after Hogwarts. They gave away most of their old furniture during the move to Grimmauld, but Remus had always been fond of this one. Sirius assured him that it was finally old enough to be considered ‘retro’ and therefore acceptably fashionable for their new bedroom. ‘Thank goodness,’ he had thought sarcastically, his highly fashionable reputation would not be tarnished. 

He scooped up his wand and sent a drowsy _Alohomora_ at the window. Huge mistake, he realized too late, freezing air and city noise engulfed the room instantly. “Ah!” Remus gasped, bare chest covered in goose pimples. He lit the fireplace with his wand as the massive owls swooped into the room, bringing snow and feathers in their wake. They dropped their parcels unceremoniously on top of Sirius and flew back out into the square. 

Shocked into alertness, he flung a _Colloportus_ after them to bolt the window. Now completely awake, Remus sat bundled up in stunned silence. He heard the muffled grumbles of Padfoot settling back into sleep. Not wanting to leave the warm blankets, he patted the floor around their bed for a jumper. His fingers brushed something cashmere (definitely Sirius’ and probably clean enough,) he pulled it over his head. The fireplace was roaring but the room was still ice. 

“Miserable bloody owls,” Remus grumbled leaning forward on the bed to see what was delivered. 

Laid out on top was The Daily Profit, its headline reading: 

_Death Eater Trial set for Lucius Malfoy! Money can’t buy him Happiness!_

Remus tossed it up towards the pillows to read later. Underneath was a formal Ministry letter addressed to him from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. 

“Fuck,” Remus muttered under his breath. He broke the seal with his thumb, tearing the side open messily, to pull out the letter. 

_‘Remus John Lupin,_

_We would like to formally invite you to be a member of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Recent legislation has opened the door for opportunities to diversify employees of the Ministry. You have been recommended to us as an expert in the field of Lycanthropy. Your Father’s pioneering legacy in this department, as well as your accolades as a member of The Order of the Phoenix, make you an excellent candidate for this exciting new position._

_Please reply to my secretary at your earliest convenience and we can schedule a lunch meeting to discuss the position._

_Sent my best to Lyle!_

_Sincerely,_

_Randol Perkins_

_Department Head_

_Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures’_

Remus gritted his teeth, ‘expert in the field of Lycanthropy,’ they wanted to offer him a job (which he hadn’t applied or asked for) but they couldn’t even muster the brass to call him a werewolf? He reread the letter feeling his anger rise. How dare they call his father’s work in the department ‘pioneering.’ In Lyle’s time there he spat so much anti werewolf bile that he got his son bit, and was forced to retire early to avoid eating crow. 

He scrubbed his face in frustration, he’d been hoping nothing would come of Moody’s gossip. Declining work with the Ministry was viewed as suspicion these days, especially if you are already a registered dark creature. Remus felt trapped. It had been bad enough having to show up this month to be locked in a Ministry cell. He couldn’t imagine the humiliation of working there as well, especially as a fucking ‘diversity’ hire. 

Padfoot flipped over a few times, huffing in his sleep, as if picking up the stress rolling off of his werewolf boyfriend. Remus squeezed the bridge of his nose to release some tension. They had their Social Service inspection today, and he was already nervous about all this affecting Sirius' ability to adopt Harry. They hadn’t talked about it, but Remus decided from the beginning that he’d move out if it made the difference between passing and failing the inspection.

‘Hierarchy of needs’ Remus reminded himself: Harry first, everything else afterwards. He would wait to tell Sirius about the letter, they didn’t need any distractions today. He tucked the envelope into one of his books piled on the bedside, and shuffled over to hassle Padfoot.

“Time to get up!” He said cheerily, lifting the blankets. 

“Nnooo…” Sirius whined shielding his eyes. Remus beamed down at him, he looked splendid. Hair messy and tangled, runic tattoos on full display as he was sporting only a pair of boxers. ‘Who needs fashion when you look like this?’ Remus thought happily. Sirius frowned up at him, “Why is it so cold in here?” 

“Tragic circumstances this morning Pads.” He shook his head grimly. 

“What?” Sirius shot him a withering look. “What time is it?” He demanded, trying to snatch the blankets back. Remus easily kept them out of reach. One of the few things he appreciated about his werewolf affliction was that, in spite of his lanky stature, he was deceptively strong. 

“Not sure. We really need a clock in here, huh?” He answered, leaning back on the headboard and taking the blankets with him. 

“Moony,” Sirius groaned, relinquishing his battle for the comforter. “Why would you wake me up when you don’t even know what time it is??” He crawled forward and shoved his top half into the bottom of Remus’ jumper. “Also, why are you wearing my clothes?” His voice was muffled by the soft fabric. 

Remus wrapped both their legs up for warmth and looked down the neck hole at his pathetic boyfriend. “You’re going to stretch it out.” 

“I know!” Sirius moaned as if this was the biggest tragedy yet. Remus laughed at him. 

“Are you in the Library Isla?” Remus called at the adjacent wall. 

“Yes?” She asked, popping her head through the leafy wallpaper. A look of utter bewilderment crossing her face as she realized they were both crammed into the same jumper, “What is happening here?” 

Sirius giggled, making it harder for Remus to keep a straight face. With all the dignity he could muster, “Good morning Isla darling. Do you happen to know what time it is?” She faded away looking displeased. He glanced down at Sirius, “I think that’s a maybe?” 

“I’m not getting dressed unless it’s after 8am.” Padfoot stated from within the cashmere. 

Isla re-emerged “This is the first, last, and only time you will use me as a clock Remus Lupin. It is 8:46”

“Yes ma’am.” Isla disappeared with an eye roll. “Thank you!” He called after her hearing a distant and ghostly, ‘You’re lucky I like you werewolf,’ in response. 

He looked back down through the neck hole, “Make us some coffee Padfoot and then we can get ready for the Ministry.” 

Sirius drew a deep breath, screwing his face up with an exaggerated expression of anxiety and then exhaled it all out until he was boneless. “Right,” he rallied, pulling himself loose of the garment, “Let’s do that.” 

~*~*~

**Later that afternoon - Remus**

Remus leaned back in the kitchen chair, extending his left leg out and propping a book on his curled up right knee, while Sirius paced behind him like a madman. He was trying to balance the energy by exuding calm, but it was a ruse, he was equally nervous. The book on his knee provided no relief, he’d read the same sentence five times. Every lap or so Padfoot would ask a question. 

“What do you think she’s asking her?” 

Agatha Fawley, the witch from Social Services, was currently holding an interview with Isla in the Parlor. 

“Probably the same things she asked us: history with children, mental health, etcetera.” 

“I mean there’s blood all over her dress, it’s a bit gruesome. Do you think that’ll count against her?” Sirius was dangerously close to a tizzy. 

“I think Isla will be just fine. She’s seen loads of kids born, yeah? And she’s like the anti-Black so that’s got to count in her favor.” Remus hoped he sounded more confident than he felt. Honestly, he was terrified. A bit of blood on your dress is nothing compared to being a werewolf. Agath hadn’t breached that subject yet and he felt like he might explode if it didn't happen soon. 

“Yeah.” Sirius nodded, “You’re right. Isla is brilliant. She’ll be fine.” But Remus could tell he was only half listening. The other half, no doubt, hunting for the next thing to stress over. 

Remus noticed his hands were shaking, he slowly closed the book and set it on the kitchen table. “Padfoot, come sit next to me. You’re driving me crazy.” 

He looked up, “What’s wrong?” 

“I’m just anxious and your pacing is a lot right now.” 

Sirius stopped short, plopping into the chair next to him with a heavy exhale. He lowered his forehead onto Remus’ knee. “Okay. I’ll calm down.”

“Thank you.” 

Remus threaded his fingers into Padfoot’s hair line, scratching little patterns. They sat in the silence for a moment. The clock in the front hall ticked away. A distant honking could be heard from Claremont Square. With stillness and physical contact, he finally felt a bit of genuine calm set in. 

The spell was broken with a rustling from the parlor door. Sirius’ head popped up, he began combing his fingers through his hair to straighten it out. Remus dropped his leg, sitting up to achieve what he hoped was a mature posture. “You’re hair’s fine,” he assured a grateful Padfoot. 

Agatha entered the kitchen, smiling pleasantly. “Well Isla Black is just lovely, isn’t she?” 

“Yes!” Sirius sat up eagerly, “She was an essential part of my childhood.”

“She did mention that.” Agatha released a tight smile, crossing to her briefcase on the kitchen table. 

Remus found the Ministry witch surprisingly intimidating. She was tall and filled every room she walked into with her no-nonsense attitude. Very professional, but it was aggravatingly difficult to get a read on her mood. 

“It is incredible how you were able to champion such a… challenging upbringing.” She opened her case to pack some notes away, pulling out new paperwork in the process. “Interviews are done.” She noted, “Now Remus, let's talk about your status on the werewolf registry.”

He felt an icy chill run through him at the mention of his name. Taking a steadying breath, he tried his best to maintain an even demeanor. Should he smile? Would that look psychotic? Sirius scooted his chair closer as Agatha sat down. 

“Ask away,” Remus feined lightheartedness. 

“Right.” She searched her parchment. “I’ve seen the panic room, and I have the letter here from Alastor Moody confirming that it meets ministry requirements. Normally werewolves on the registry may take the option to ride out moons in such panic rooms.”

“Oh I didn’t realize that?” A flurry of excitement gathered in Remus. 

“But,” Agatha continued, “with Harry being so young in the house. I would feel more comfortable with you reporting to the Ministry for full moons.” 

His heart sank. “Of course,” he nodded, muscling out a smile.

Agatha seemed to notice his disappointment, “I am open to re-evaluating this as Harry ages.” 

“That sounds good.” He nodded along robotically. 

Agatha’s tone darkened, “I have seen, with my own eyes, the tremendous damage a werewolf can unknowingly inflict on those they love. You are very lucky Remus to have never hurt anyone and I would like to keep it that way.” 

“Yes.” He agreed feeling exposed in every way. 

“Now, I would like you to walk me through a theoretical emergency situation. If the change occurs and you are unable to get to the Ministry.” She pulled out a quill to take notes and regarded the pair expectantly. 

Sirius spoke up, “I have loads of experience with Remus’ transformation. I would first make sure Harry is safe and in a different area of the house. Then I would get Remus down to the panic room, using my animagus form if necessary. Once he’s secure, I would summon an Auror.”

“As Order members, we have a direct line to several Aurors.” Remus added. 

Agatha looked up from her writing, “May I see your Animagus form?” 

“Sure thing.” Sirius slid off his chair, shifting into the large black shepard known as Snuffles. He looked up at Agatha expectantly, tongue hanging out. Remus suppressed the urge to scruff his head. 

“Gargoyles! He’s massive!” She exclaimed looking at Remus in disbelief.

“Yeah, he used to play-fight with the wolf at school. He won a few times by seventh year.” 

Agatha paled, “There’ll be none of that now?” 

“Of course!” Remus jumped to correct his mistake, “We were young and that was very dangerous.” 

Sirius shifted back, “Yes! A lot has changed since school.” He put on a grave tone, “Our time in the war stripped all the recklessness we had.” This mollified Agatha, Remus got the impression the war stripped a fair amount from her as well. Though he felt Pads was laying it on a bit thick with them being reformed. Considering the plan he’d laid out over breakfast for rebuilding his motorbike the moment they got Harry back.

Agatha addressed Remus, “Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures informed me that you’ve been sent an offer of employment?” Sirius pierced him a questioning look as his stomach squirmed. 

“Yes. I got a letter this morning.” He said hesitantly. 

“Do you plan on accepting?” She held her quill up, ready to note his answer. 

Remus felt overly warm, “It would depend on the nature of what they want me to do in the job.” 

Agatha nodded, “I appreciate your honesty. I do think a job would be stabilizing for your condition. It doesn’t have to be in the Ministry, but a smart wizard like yourself could help with the bigotry rampant in that Department.” Her candor was astounding. 

Remus replied honestly, “I will take that into consideration.” He could feel the hole Padfoot was burning into the side of his head. He was definitely in trouble. 

Oblivious, Agatha finished her notes, “I believe all the bases have been covered on this front. I am comfortable moving on, with the caveat that if Remus fails to show up for a full moon my office will be informed and a formal Inquiry will follow.” She locked eyes with him, “Sound acceptable?” He and Padfoot nodded ‘yes.’ Agatha flicked her wand at the parchment, a Ministry stamp blooming on the page. Remus exhaled a shaky breath. 

“Alright.” She tucked the parchment away. “I’ve seen the bottom two floors. I’d like to see the bedrooms next.” 

“Yes, follow me” Sirius led Agatha out into the hallway and up the stairs. Remus trailed behind them shell shocked from the conversation. Was that really it? He’d prepared himself for the worst. Being forced to move out made sense. But that exchange had been far too easily. He didn’t trust it. Feeling unsettled, Remus joined them on the landing. He tuned into their conversation, trying to set aside his mounting thoughts. 

“-the library would be excellent for pre-Hogwarts homeschooling.” 

Sirius clearly agreed with her, “Yes we think preschooling at home is the safest option. We have a few friends with children Harry’s age. We could most likely form a small group.” 

“Oh that’s a wonderful plan,” Agatha nodded to both of them. Remus needed to screw is head back on, he was struggling to focus. He considered excusing himself to hide in the bathroom until his nerves settled. 

“And that’s your room?” Agatha asked Sirius, pointing to the master. 

“Yes,” He pushed open the door, revealing their abnormally tidy bedroom. 

“And where is your room Remus?” 

On autopilot, he started, “Oh we both sleep-“ falling short the moment he registered Agatha’s face. The landing fell into a harsh silence. 

“Oh you’re a couple?” She asked, clearly thrown. 

Remus threw a panicked look at Padfoot.

“Yes. Is that a problem?” Sirius asked from behind her. 

Agatha looked back and forth between them. “That does change things.” She rubbed her forehead. “Let me check my briefcase for something.” She quickly exited down the stairs. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t.” Remus shuttered to a petrified looking Sirius, “We’ve been out for so long to the Order. I just didn’t even think.” 

“It’s okay Moony, we should have made a plan for this.” Sirius raked his hands through his hair thinking quickly. 

Remus felt a cold sweat prickle his chest as panic set in, “Did we just lose Harry?” 

“I don’t know.” Sirius chewed on his lower lip. “Why didn’t you tell me about the Ministry Letter?” 

What small stability Remus had been maintaining snapped, “Are you really bringing that up right _now_?” He spat at Padfoot. 

Fury flared in Sirius instantly, Remus could see his crimes piling up behind his boyfriend’s eyes. They were both charging for a row. Luckily, before things could escalate, they heard Agatha climbing the stairs. Both Marauders took deep breaths, turning away from each other. 

“Thanks for your patience, I had to check on protocol.” Agatha addressed them both solemnly, “If you two are romantically involved, I believe it would be best if you were _both_ legal guardians for Harry.” Remus couldn’t comprehend what she was saying, the whiplash was overwhelming. 

Sirius blurted out, “Us being a couple is not a problem?” 

Agatha warmed, “Certainly not with me. But there are people in the Ministry who would take issue. So the more legally we can bind you both with Harry, the better.” 

It dawned on Remus that she was protecting them. He felt gratitude sweep through his chest, into his arms, and onto his legs. He was struck with the wild urge to hug her. 

“Are you saying we’re going to get him?” Sirius asked in awe. 

“Oh,” Agath covered her face embarrassed. “I was going to let you finish the tour first. Yes. I intend to grant you.. both,” she addressed Remus, “custody.” 

Sirius swooped the tall witch into a bear hug, “Oh thank you!” 

She smiled awkwardly behind him. “Thank you two, for creating such a wonderful home here for Harry Potter to join.” She patted his shoulder. 

“How about we show you the other two floors?” Remus asked, stepping in to save Agatha from the hug. 

“Yes,” she stepped back, grateful to be released, “and then we can sign the paperwork.” 

“Of course!” Padfoot grinned from ear to ear.

Remus’s face hurt from his own smile, nerves forgotten. “Let’s show you Harry’s room.” He led them up to the third floor. 

~*~*~

**Later that evening - Sirius**

Sirius stood over the iron stove range receiving recipe instructions from Mary. She’d promised to teach him a few easy dishes, tonight it was a pasta sauce passed down from her Father’s side of the family. She’d dropped in to hear how the inspection went. He stirred idly, continuing his story. 

“And then she asks Moony if he’s going to accept the job from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures!”

Aghast, Mary turned to Remus, “What job?”

“My thoughts exactly Mary!” He shot daggers at Moony, “What job?”

Remus threw his hands in the air, “Look! _I_ was just following through on the ‘Hierarchy of needs’ thing! We weren’t supposed to have any distractions this morning from passing the inspection, so I was waiting to mention it.” 

Mary shot Sirius a knowing look, he rolled his eyes skyward. 

“Anyways,” she brushed off Moony’s excuse, “It doesn’t matter because you GOT HIM!” She shouted into the kitchen ceiling. Remus’ grin took over his entire face, pink scars curving up to add to the expression. ‘Merlin, he’s handsome like this’ Sirius thought dreamily. They were bound to have it out about the letter eventually, but right now Sirius was far too happy to do anything other than be playful.

Isla dropped her top half through the ceiling, “Did someone say Harry’s arrived?” Mary let out a frightened shout. 

“Sorry! I’m not used to that yet.” She laughed up at the ghost. 

“Harry’s not here yet Isla.” Remus said apologetically, “We’re just excited. The Ministry witch should ring the bell.” Isla faded back through the rafters. 

“Mary,” Sirius called, “Come let me know how this tastes?” She scooted away from the table, and took the spoon from him. 

“Let me mess with it a bit. You strain the noodles.” Mary instructed Sirius

“No, I want to watch you. I need to be able to recreate this.” He countered. “Moony, will you do the noodles?” 

They all shifted around, Sirius watching Mary like a hawk as she complained about his pathetic range of seasoning. Moony levitating noodles to plates before vanishing the boiling water. They began migrating to the table with their food, but were interrupted by the front bell. Everyone froze. Isla popped back through the ceiling, excited. 

“That’ll be Harry,” Sirius breathed. 

“Go, you two!” Mary hissed, “I’ll spell all this clean.” 

Remus reached out his hand, Sirius took it and they walked together down the long hallway. Once at the door, Remus checked the peephole. 

“It’s him.” He confirmed, the faintest bit of nerves behind his eyes. Sirius didn’t mind being the brave one tonight, he swung the door open to reveal Agatha holding a sleeping Harry Potter. He was the sweetest little peanut wrapped in a soft looking blanket. Sirius noticed he’d grown, even though it had only been two months. He also noted the scar on Harry’s forehead, a white lightning bolt spread from his hairline into his right eyebrow. Sirius reached forward to rub his thumb over the mark. 

“It’s from You-Know-Who.” She gravely answered the silent question.

Sirius squeezed her arm, “Please come in out of the cold Agatha. We’ve got pasta.” 

“Wonderful, I’m starved!” She beamed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They finally got him! 
> 
> Tumblr totally inspired the jumper bit. I figured I'd add my twist on the prompt. 
> 
> Let me know your thoughts.


	4. ‘Sun That Pins the Branches to the Sky’

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry’s godfathers welcome him home. What will happen to the Malfoys as January’s full moon approaches?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from David Bowie’s “Eight Line Poem.” 
> 
> Thanks to @Horatio_Air_Horns for beta reading and generally being a wonderful human. 
> 
> Thank you all for your encouraging comments! I am so grateful to receive every one of them.
> 
> Please forgive any typos.

**Friday, 1 January 1982 - Sirius**

Sirius was so excited to finally have his godson safe and sound on the floor above him, that he actually woke up  _ before _ Moony on New Year’s Day. He could hear Remus snoring as he peeked out of the warm blankets. A sliver of soft morning light crept from the drawn curtains to cast the room in gentle twilight. 

Moony had spread himself as wide as possible through the night, arms stretched above his head, meaning his largest scares were on display. There was a wide gash on the top of his left shoulder that snaked into his collarbone (from fifth year,) a hand-sized web of scars on his right rib cage (from second year,) and down at the bottom of his waist was the bite from Greyback. A circle of torn flesh wreathed in knut sized puncture marks. Unlike Harry’s little lightning bolt, Moony’s scars were all still pink and none looked older than a year. For whatever stupidly poetic reason, werewolf wounds never properly heal. 

Moony had ended up with both pillows. ‘Theif,’ Sirius thought to himself as he uncurled from his sleeping position. The pair of Marauders have slept in the same configuration since seventh year: Remus spread out wide and Sirius tucked in to fill the gaps. Prongs used to wonder at how Sirius could fall asleep in such a small shape, but folded up into Moony’s side suited him just fine. Remus blamed the dog in him. 

He snuck out of bed to hunt down a pair of joggers and a hoodie. Their room was already messy again. Stacks of books and loose parchment on Moony’s side of the bed while piles of Sirius’ clothes littered the floor… Isla would, no doubt, have something smart to say about it. Sirius tucked the comforter over Moony and relit the fireplace on his way out. The landing was frigid, he realized too late that he should’ve grabbed socks. ‘Onwards and upwards,’ he thought as he felt the anticipation of seeing Harry build in his stomach. 

As Sirius tiptoed up the staircase, a memory of Regulus surfaced. He could see himself as a boy sneaking into Reg’s rooms, after Walburga’s curfew, to invent stories about pirates living happier lives. Sirius felt a little wave of hurt as the image entered and then exited his mind. Grimauld didn’t feel exceptionally different after they’d used Dumbledore’s hourglass. He would never forget his mother’s cruelty or the thick guilt surrounding Regulus, but the hourglass helped him gain a bit of distance. The memories no longer cored Sirius, the way they had his first week in Grimmauld. Before, he often found himself transported to childhood, shaking in his mother’s wake. But now, his adult-self stood with the scared child in those memories, holding his hand, and telling him they’d be okay. It was a subtle and curious strength the hourglass gave, as nuanced as the powerful wizard who created it. 

Sirius stepped onto the newly transformed landing. They’d tucked away everything except for a drawing room, a bathroom, and his current destination: Harry’s room. Casting a silencing charm on the door, he slipped into the dark bedroom. 

They’d tried their best to emulate Lily when decorating Harry’s space. His baby books were all shelved with quidditch knick knacks on the edges. There were family pictures scattered around of Euphemia, Fleamont, James, and Lily, all smiling happily from their various frames. Unpacking them had been extremely painful, but necessary. Sirius and Moony agreed that Harry should know his family’s faces well. In the corner sat a wooden and brass lamp paired with a warm leather armchair. Both pieces were relocated from the Potter’s house. A large soft rug covered most of the floor, Harry’s crib swimming in it’s center. 

But Sirius’s favorite was the walls. He’d found a halftone printed wallpaper of cream trees on an inky teal background dotted in gold stars. It reminded him of the Forbidden Forest in the best way. At any moment Prongs could step from between the branches and gallop around the room.

Sirius ran his fingers over the trees while crossing to the window. He pulled the curtains just enough to fill the room with a pink morning glow. Harry could be heard wiggingly around in his sleep. Sirius whispered a spell at the hearth to stoke the fireplace. It crackled happily, the sound brought with it memories of Hogwarts, welcome reminders of safety and comfort. 

Finally, Sirius dared a peek at Harry himself. The one-year-old was in his red snitch onesie, lying face up, with the blankets thrown to a corner. His little lighting bolt standing out starkly on an otherwise perfectly smooth face. Harry already favored his father, with their creamy coffee colored complexion and thick dark hair stuck out at all angles. But Sirius knew that when he stirred, Lily’s startling emerald eyes would be looking up at him. He reached down to rub his godson’s tiny cheek. 

“Happy New Years Harry Potter,” He smiled down at the toddler’s sleeping form. 

Isla walked through the east wall adding her ghostly shimmer to the room’s light. “Best not to wake him.” She breathed. 

Sirius nodded at her, stepping back to plant himself in the armchair. 

“Have you already looked in on him?” Sirius asked her quietly. 

“Yes.” She stole another glance at Harry before approaching Sirius. “I’ve checked on him several times throughout the night.” She sighed, “It’s wonderful to have a baby in the house again.” 

“Did he sleep soundly?” 

“Very much so.” She warmed, “He’s a good one, Sirius.” 

He raised his eyebrow in mock suspicion, “Under twenty four hours and you can already tell?”

“Oh I could tell the moment I laid eyes on him.” They both smiled conspiratorially, happy to celebrate Harry finally being home.

“The easy part is over,” Isla added. Sirius’ heart dipped, the last word he would choose to describe their work in December was ‘easy.’ She continued, “Now we’ve got to help him grow into a healthy, loved, human.” 

Feeling the faintest whisper of anxiety creep into this stomach, Sirius groaned inwardly in recognition. ‘Oh, hello fear,’ he thought to himself. 

“All we can do is our best.” He stated, looking past Isla towards the trees and thinking of James. 

~*~*~

**Monday, 4th January 1982 - Remus**

Remus sat across the kitchen table from Harry James Potter, his newly Ministry deemed godson. A reality that completely boggled his mind, but he was trying not to overthink it. Harry let loose a mischievous laugh. Surprising no one, the young little Potter was becoming more of a goofball everyday. He’d finished eating for the most part and was now rubbing the leftovers all over his plate. 

“How’s it going over there lad?” Remus asked 

Harry looked up with his bright green eyes, wide as an owl’s, and babbled away in nonsense. Remus couldn’t understand a word of it, but the conviction in Harry's delivery was noble.

“Well said mate.” Remus liked to chat with Harry, he wasn’t a fan of baby talk. “I hope Padfoot makes it back before midnight.” Harry’s head bobbed about as Remus checked his wristwatch. It was nearly 7pm. “But certainly not before we get _ you _ to sleep.” He shot at Harry, who was focused back on his edible art. 

Remus rambled as he brushed aside mounting nerves, “Those damn things can go on for ages.” Padfoot was testifying against Lucious Malfoy tonight. Ministry trials put everyone on edge, felt like being called back to war. It didn't help that it was a full moon week either. “Everything will be fine,” he assured an oblivious Harry. “Padfoot will come home and Lucious will go to Azkaban.” 

Done simmering, Remus  _ scrougified  _ the table and scooped up Harry. “Let's run a bath.” With the moon approaching, Remus was starting to feel sore, three flights of stairs was a daunting prospect. He chose instead to apparate them up to the third floor. This was a misstep, Remus learned quickly that apparation did not suit Harry Potter. The moment they landed he started balling. 

“Oh Harry. I’m sorry. Was that scary?” He rubbed the toddler’s back, swaying them both side to side. “I’m so sorry.” Harry didn’t cry often, but when he did Remus had to fight spiraling into a panic with him. Lily always sprung into his mind with the sound, she’d been great with tantrums. He didn’t want to let her down, he was certain she hadn’t imagined a werewolf raising her first born. 

“Probably a bit young for apparition.” Isla said, emerging through the floorboards to give the wailing Harry a sympathetic look. 

“Yeah, I didn’t even think about it.” Remus continued to gently bob him up and down. 

Isla floated over to get Harry’s attention, Remus could feel a slight chill wafting off her. “Trauma is a funny thing.” She stated, while exaggerating her smile for the toddler’s benefit. “Whether he knows it or not, he’s got a very deep wound from a terrible night with big magic.” Remus let that realization set in as Isla continued, “So I think we should ease him back into the larger displays of magic.” Harry quieted looking back and forth between his ghost grandaunt and werewolf godfather. 

“I’m so sorry little man.” Remus felt emotion thick in his chest, “I miss them too.”

Isla addressed Harry, “That dark lord can piss right off.” She kept her tone playful. 

“Yeah,” he added, matching her cadence, “Screw that  _ daft  _ muppet Moldy-vort.” 

“Good thing you killed him, huh?” Isla put on a silly voice, Harry thought it was hilarious. 

“There’s the laughter,” Relieved, he stopped bobbing to lift Harry up and kiss his messy black hair. 

“Is Sirius due soon?” Isla asked, turning her focus to Remus. 

“No, I think it’ll go late. These Ministry trials can be a nightmare.” 

Poised as ever, she gently sighed, “Better to have them over with.” Isla seemed to be struck with a thought, “You know, I remember Narcissa before she became a Malfoy. She was sharp and had a bleakly dry humor,” Isla laughed faintly at the memory, “but she’s always been tragically pure-blooded.” she concluded, humor draining from her face. 

“I think Sirius is nervous about facing her.” 

“They have an odd history those two. She was here the night he escaped.” 

That was news to Remus, “Really?” All his memories from that night were of waiting anxiously in Fleamont and Euphora’s kitchen for Padfoot to arrive. Desperate to know what shape they'd find him in. 

“I’m surprised he’s never mentioned it.” 

“I’m not.” he shrugged, “Pad’s old memories here are painful, I don’t push him for many details when we talk about it.” 

“Alright,” Isla considered his words as Harry struck up another babbling conversation. He began waving his little hands through Isla’s lacy shoulder, shrieking with giggles at the cold. They both smiled at him. “Are you nervous about the moon this week?” 

Remus exhaled, “You just cut straight to it, huh?” 

“I see no reason not to.” 

“I am.” He held her dark eyes. Feeling suddenly drained, he chose to match her bluntness, “I don’t like being locked up. I scratch myself more in a cage.” 

Eyebrows knitted, Isla inquired, “They don’t heal you afterwards?” a spark of anger behind her curiosity. 

“They do.” He assured her, “But I still don’t like it.” The room was beginning to feel too small for Remus, he needed space. 

With a sudden aged authority, Isla caught his eye, “I believe that’s a completely reasonable way to feel, darling.” Then she nodded at Harry, “Now go get that baby washed up and in bed.” 

Harry enjoyed his bath immensely. Remus put in an extra effort to make up for the scare on the landing. He engorged the bubbles, shot streams of water around, and levitated a little toy snitch to splash in the tub. The entire event was quite precious and he wished, more than anything, that he could share it with Lily. 

“I promise I’ll be a good godfather,” He said to Harry as he toweled him off. It was a vow for his godson, but also for Lily and Prongs and himself too. 

Harry passed out almost immediately, and the young werewolf ended up dozing in the chair by his crib. Lamp turned down low, book in his lap, mouth open. A very predictable scene for anyone who knew Remus Lupin well. 

Sirius gently prodded him awake, “Let’s go to bed, Moony.” 

He snapped his mouth shut, blinking to remember where he was. “Right,” he rubbed his forehead. Sirius smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes... he looked exhausted. 

“Tough one?” Remus asked in a low voice as Pads pulled him to his feet. 

“It always is with family.” Sirius kept hold of his hand as they crept out of Harry’s room. Putting out the lamp with his wand before they shut the door.

On the chilly landing, Remus rubbed his thumb over their joined knuckles. Leaning down to kiss the top of Pad’s head, he heard a contented sigh and felt an arm wind around his waist. It was good to have everyone home, “Lets get some sleep, Padfoot.” 

~*~*~

**Saturday, 9th January 1982 - Sirius**

“Earth to Sirius?” 

“Huh?” Sirius snapped to attention, shooting Mary a guilty face. She was sat next to him on the sofa, relaying a story from Alex’s work and at some point he’d lost the thread.

“Sorry,” He groaned apologetically. Mary had finally brought her son Dean over to play with Harry. They’d set the two boys free to crawl around the parlor after supper. Done exploring, they were now staring intently at each other while holding an animated conversation in baby-speak. Sirius would normally have found the whole thing hilarious, but he couldn't keep his attention in the room tonight. 

“Are you always like this on full moons?” 

Sirius felt a brick land in his stomach, “It's just different now that he has to report to the Ministry.” 

“Have you talked about being registered yet?” 

“No.” 

“Have you talked about the job?” 

Sirius shook his head at her. 

Mary looked scandalized, “You two completely floor me!” 

He knew she was right. It was absurd that they  _ still _ hadn’t talked about any of the Ministry nonsense. There just hadn’t been a good time....

“I don’t like to push Moony around the full moon. He’s usually in pain. He never complains about it, but you can tell.”

“Oh, you mean more things you  _ don’t  _ talk about?” 

Sirius rolled his eyes, “Well, when you frame it like that.” 

“I know you two have this elaborate system of not addressing difficult things...but now that Harry’s here some of that’s gonna have to change.” 

Annoyed, Sirius tutted at her. 

“You know I’m right.” Mary caught his eye, “You can feel it already, huh? Babies have this way of eating up all the extra patience you used to have for managing your husband’s moods.” 

“We’re not married,” Sirius snipped at her. 

“Might as well be,” She brushed off his defensiveness.

“I think I’m just more patient than you Mary,” he shook his head in her direction, causing her to cackle with laughter. 

“That would be a big change from school!” She accused him good naturedly, “But for  _ me _ , with Dean around now, Alex and I definitely have it out over the things I used to just roll off my shoulders.” 

“Fighting’s not always bad,” Sirius noted, “As long as it leads to you both adjusting.” 

Mary’s eyes shot skyward, "That’s the point I was trying to make to  _ you, _ dufus.” 

“Oh,” Sirius finally caught her intention, “Moony and I aren’t afraid of arguing, we’ve been champs at that since we were kids.” he sighed, “We just don’t want to hurt each other. There’s been more than enough of that to go around.” His gaze fell on Harry. 

“Talking about the painful things is more for healing than hurting, love.” Mary laid her head on his shoulder, taking in the boys with him. “Look at those two. What do you think they’re saying to each other?” Harry and Dean’s conversation seemed to have turned into a grave debate. 

Sirius chuckled, “Arthurian Charm theory?” Mary stuck her tongue out. He wrapped his arm over her shoulder, “I’m sorry for earlier. What were you saying about Alex?”

“Oh,” She waved the apology off, “The story was just a roundabout way of saying you’ll see him tonight... when he picks us up in our new Muggle car!” She wiggled her eyebrows for emphasis. 

“Really?” Sirius perked up, “If you want any modifications to it... all you have to do is ask.”

“I wish! Alex’d lose it. He says he needs a balance of magic and non magic in our house to stay sane. You should’ve heard him yesterday-” Mary was cut off by the front bell. They both sent questioning looks at the other. 

“That can’t be Alex already?” Sirius asked, standing. Mary shook her head. He stepped through the open parlor door and towards the front. Checking the peephole, he saw Narcissa standing on the other side. A wave of stress crashed over him. 

“Who is it?” Mary hissed from the parlor doorframe. 

“Narcissa Fucking Malfoy.” 

Mary paled, “Let's call an Auror.” 

Torn, Sirius bit his lip at Mary, “Hang on.” He turned back to the door, shouting, “What do you want Narcissa?” He checked the peephole for her response. 

“I only want to talk.” She spat back. “Will you continue to cower inside?” 

He flipped from the peephole to Mary, “I’m going to talk to her on the stoop.” 

Her eyes popped, “That is a terrible idea Sirius Black!” 

“She’s not going to try anything. She fought too hard to keep Draco.” 

“That logic’s rubbish and you know it!” Mary pointed at him. 

“Well, I’m doing it,” Sirius grabbed a coat from the nearest hook and leapt onto the landing before Mary could stop him. He hadn’t spoken with his cousin directly since the night he left Grimmauld. If Narcissa had questions for him, he owed her answers, though he doubted she’d like anything he had to say. 

It was freezing outside, unprecedentedly cold for London. He felt the temperature compress him like he was underwater. Shivering, he cast a spell to warm the air around them. He threw on the coat he’d grabbed, realizing with a pang that it was Mary’s. He zipped up her teal puffer with what little dignity he could, the arms were at least three centimeters too short. 

“Not going to invite me inside?” His cousin slung at him, her breath coming out in puffs of white. She was dressed in a wollen emerald cape-coat, icy blonde hair pulled back in a dark fur cossack. She stood like Russian royalty, revealing no hint that her previous life lay in shambles around her feet. 

Sirius felt heavy with guilt, “You know you can’t come inside.” 

“Desperate to keep your little boy-who-lived safe?”

Prickling at her mention of Harry, Sirius diverted, “Why are you here Narcissa?”

A cold fury raged in her eyes, she reached back and slapped him, “How could you?” She screamed, “Destroy  _ my _ family. Take everything from  _ my _ son?” All pretence of composure gone from her. 

He froze, closing his eyes, trying desperately to take a calming breath. ‘Mary was right’ he thought, face stinging from the strike, ‘this was a bad idea.’ 

“Is that it? Did you just come here to slap me?” 

“I don’t know.” She paced a tight circle in front of him, “I didn’t think you’d come out, honestly.” 

Sirius had never seen Narcissa like this. Throughout the entire trial she’d sat like stone with Draco in her arms, as the Ministry stripped her husband, her fortune, and reputation from her. 

“Where’s Draco?” Sirius asked, hoping to ground her with mention of her son, she looked close to a panic attack. 

Narcissa halted, pivoting on the spot to face him. She lifted her cape to reveal the blonde infant, sleeping soundly, swaddled to her chest. She was close to tears. Completely unrecognizable from the pristine pure-blood heiress he knew in childhood. 

“You need to take him home. He shouldn’t be out in the cold.” 

“What home is there for me to take him to?” She spun around wildly, “I have  _ nothing.  _ I had to rent a room in a  _ muggle _ Inn.” She gasped, dropping the cape over her son as Sirius cast another warming charm. 

“You should speak with Andromeda.” 

“Don’t tell me what to do Sirius Black!” She spat. 

“All I did was tell the truth, Narcissa.” Sirius breathed, “You’re the one who married a Death Eater.” She crumpled at the mention of her husband, folding in on herself as sobs poured from her mouth. Sirius leaned down next to her, “I don’t think-”

“Don’t touch me,” She pushed him off, leaning on the wall for support. She looked up at him, “I never should have helped you that night.” 

Sirius felt fragments of the memory seep through him. His sixteen-year-old-self, barely able to walk after Walburga’s latest tirade. Isla, covering for him to sneak out during the annual Christmas party. Narcissa, walking in on him halfway out the window. She’d held his panicked gaze for an impossibly long moment, before turning and leaving the room without a word. As far as he knew, she hadn’t spoken of it since. “Help is a strong word when all you did was stay quiet.” 

She slowly shook her head, “Of course you don’t understand. Family means nothing to you.”

“I have built my own family Narcissa and they mean  _ everything _ to me. Just as yours does to you.” Sirius raked his fingers through his hair, this conversation was spinning in circles. 

“If you need a place, I could talk with Remus-”

“The werewolf?” She looked disgusted. “Stay here with the boy-who-lived and your filthy beast?” And with that she’d finally taken it too far. 

It took all of his will power not to shout. Sirius inhaled and stated as plainly as possible, “I’ve come out. We’ve talked. You clearly don’t want my help. Now please leave or I’ll call an Auror.” 

Mention of the Ministry struck Narcissa to the bone. She made a struggling effort to get to her feet with Draco still sleeping under her coat. His anger quelled at the sight, she was being cruel tonight because hatred and pain was all she’d been left with. Sirius lowered his hand in an offer to help her up. Though it visibly pained her, she took it. 

“When you are ready, I know Andromeda will help you.” Sirius willed her to hear him, for Draco’s sake. Once on her feet, she dropped his hand like it burnt her. “Do you need money for the night bus?” 

Her face cracked open with shame, “Yes.” She looked away, knitting herself back together. He handed over what was in his wallet, avoiding her eyes. Without thanks, she departed into the freezing night air. 

Feeling numb, inside and out, Sirius creaked open the door to his home. Mary stepped back to let him through, she had evidently been watching through the peephole. 

“Are the boys alright?” He asked vacantly. 

“They’re fine, Isla’s watching them.” She rubbed her hand up his arm, taking him in. “You look ridiculous,” she said solemnly, indicating her too small coat. Sirius’ responding laughter quickly turned into tears. Mary tucked him into a warm hug, “We all know Lucious got what he deserved.” She squeezed him tight, “I hope, for her sake, she sees it one day.” 

~*~*~

**Sunday, 10th January 1982 - Remus**

Remus sprawled out gingerly on his piece of the drawing room floor. He and Padfoot had pulled out all the furniture cushions to frame a little play-place for Harry to crawl between them. It was another record-breaking cold in London today, Mary said the muggle news kept calling it ‘The Big Snow of 1982.’

The Marauder couple decided to spend the snow day holed up on the third level for warmth. Remus looked around the drawing room, it was relatively bare compared to the rest of Grimmauld. They hadn’t done much with it yet, besides striping the old creepy wallpaper and putting in a sofa and matching chairs. He knew Sirius would have it filled out eventually. But for now they were lounging, laid out in front of its massive fireplace. 

Remus exhaled quietly through a muscle spasm, transformation had been rough last night. The wolf hated their Ministry cage more than the Shrieking Shack. Remus woke to find a fresh gash down his leg and a broken arm left for him this morning. Once home, he’d made every effort to focus on anything else, dwelling on injuries often left him feeling useless. 

“ _ Leviosa _ ” Padfoot announced, pulling Remus’ attention. 

Sirius had his hair down, hanging messily on his shoulders. He hadn’t cut it since last summer, said he was going to try for a ‘Hunky Dory’ Bowie look...no complaints from Remus there. Pads was levitating a stuffed bear for Harry’s grand amusement. He lifted it up, up, up as the toddler reached higher after it and then finally dropped it into his arms, earning a giggle. Music to both Marauder's ears. Happy to be warm, with his leg propped up, listening to Sirius entertain Harry, Remus finally felt content enough to try a nap. 

Padfoot, unfortunately, was not on the same page. “So did you ever respond to the Ministry letter?” He asked, looking away from Harry who was trying to eat the bear. 

Remus leaned back on the cushions to stare at the ceiling. “No. I’ve been preoccupied with Harry finally here.” 

“Yeah, It’s been a busy week.” Sirius agreed, but a pregnant pause followed. “Are you ready to talk about it?” 

Agitation swept up Remus’ shoulders, “What ‘it’ do you want me to talk about?” 

“Any of it. All of it.” 

“If I crack the lid on last night, I won’t be able to put it back on.” 

“And that would be bad?”

“Yes Padfoot.” Remus snapped, instantly regretting his tone. Pain always stole too much of his patience. 

“Okay.” Sirius backed off, switching gears, “Well… for me it’s been a tough week. I’ve been, obviously, very excited about having Harry here. But I’ve also been anxious.” 

“What do you mean?” Remus turned his head. 

“Just been having loads of mean thoughts: I’m going to mess him up, do a bad job, etcetera.” He paused, “I miss Hogwarts, when it felt like we could do anything.” 

“I miss it too.” Remus caught his eye, “But you don’t have to worry about Harry, you’re great with him.”

“You can be great with a baby and still mess him up.” Sirius looked sad. 

“I think as long as we’re better than Petunia, we’ll be okay. Don’t think we can mess him up anymore than Voldemort already has.” Remus’ bad joke fell flat in the room. 

Sirius knocked it aside, “You’re not worried?” 

“Of course I’m worried.” He shrugged. 

“Then why are you being so flippant?”

“I’m trying to be sensible.” 

“I’d rather you just be honest Moony.” 

Remus was too tired to keep evading, “Okay,” he gave in. “I’m nervous too. All last month we worked so hard to get Harry, I didn’t let myself think about what it would be like to actually raise him.”

Sirius looked relieved, “Me too.” 

“If I’m really being honest,” Remus opened up, “I never thought I’d actually get to be a part of this.” 

Thrown, Sirius made a face, “What are you talking about?” 

“I was certain Agatha wouldn’t let me live here with you both,” he stated flatly. 

Pads tensed, “It is madding when you do that Moony!” 

“Do what?” 

“Decide that the worst is going to happen and then just sit in it alone.” He threw up his hands, “If you really thought the Ministry would make you move out, we should have made a plan together.”

“Are you angry?” Remus couldn’t believe he was being told off over this. 

“Yes. I can  _ not  _ believe you! Secretly deciding that we’d be split up and then just resigning yourself to it?” 

“It wasn’t like I was happy about it?” Remus grew defensive, “It scared the shit out of me.”

“All the more reason to tell me Moony. What if you’d been right? And Agatha required you to move out? What makes you think I can do this on my own?” He indicated Harry and the room around them wildly. The toddler babbled to himself, watching Padfoot’s hands wave about. 

“In that  _ theoretical _ scenario I would have still helped. I just wouldn’t live here with you two.” 

“We’re a couple Remus. We said we’d do this together. In what world, would I be okay with you not living here with me?”

“I didn’t think that far into it.” Remus pushed back, exasperated. 

“Obviously not.” Pads doubled down, “You were so ready to punish yourself, that you didn’t even include me in the decision. That’s _ fucked _ Moony!” 

Remus tried to shut the conversation down, “Okay you're right. I fucked up.”

“That’s not even the point!” Sirius held his gaze. 

“Then what is Padfoot?” 

“I need to know that you’re going to fight to be here... with  _ us _ .” Sirius broke open, “When things get hard, you’re not just going to slip away to ‘take one for the team’,” he spat the phrase like he hated it. Then sadness painted his features, “I have always held you close Moony, but fuck, it is  _ so _ painful when you don't hold me back.” Padfoot pinned him down with his eyes. 

Remus was lost for words. Between this and last night, he felt like a cup right at the edge of tipping over. Afraid any sudden action would dump everything out. “I don’t know what to say, Padfoot.” He took a shaky breath. 

Sirius reached over Harry and ran his fingers down Remus’ arm. “You love me, right?” 

“Yes,” he felt raw. 

“You love him too?” Pads glanced down at Harry. 

“Of course.” 

“Then share some of the scary things with us, Okay?” Remus nodded, words felt difficult again. Sirius continued, “You don’t have to share everything, but we can fight  _ some _ of this shit together.” 

Remus looked over at the fire, needing to orient himself. Sirius had always asked the most from him, but it was usually worth it. Taking a deep breath, he examined the pile of terrifying thoughts pressed against his chest... “Part of me wants to work at the Ministry.” 

Sirius didn’t say anything, instead giving space for Remus to talk. “The idea of me making things better for werewolves feels important. It hit somewhere in my chest the moment Agatha said it.” Pads nodded, Remus took a breath, “But the idea of interacting with people like me is… overwhelming. I avoided the others when I showed up last night.” 

“The other werewolves?” Sirius asked gently. 

It took a gross effort for Remus to continue, “They look pathetic, beat down by the Ministry. I hate being registered, Pads. Everybody there looks at me different.” He exhaled, “I want to make things better for those werewolves, but I don't want to become them. I think working there might do that to me.” 

“It’s a risk,” Sirius agreed. “Getting worn down is sneaky like that. Doesn’t matter how strong you think you are. I had to leave this place for the same reason. Could feel it creeping in… the hopelessness of cruelty. And there’s no doubt Moony that the way our system treats werewolves is cruel.” The word struck Remus somewhere deep down, Sirius continued, “I know your parents worked hard to keep you away from that.” 

Remus regarded his partner carefully, Sirius was trying to meet him halfway, he leaned in. “Yeah, Hope and Lyle tried their best. But I still am what I am.”

“And you’ve got a wonderful life with us ahead of you,” Sirius reached down to poke a giggling Harry. “Whether you decide to work at the Ministry or not.” 

Feeling unworthy, Remus took in his makeshift family and all the wonderful possibilities they offered. Harry turned, sticking his tongue out before chatting away in jiberish. He couldn't help smiling, it was impossible not to share that little kid’s joy. 

Sirius added, “We’ll support you either way Moony. But neither choice has to be permanent, you know? You could always quit the job or apply for it later?” 

He let that idea wash over him. In three simple sentences Padfoot made the Ministry letter feel less daunting. He didn’t have to be stuck. But Remus was too drained to dwell on it further. 

“I think I need more time with it.” He said, dragging over a book from the pile he’d made by his cushions. He looked over at his boyfriend, his partner, the last of the Marauders, “Thank you, Sirius.”

“Any time Remus,” Padfoot winked at him before making a silly face at Harry and pretending to gobble him up. The toddler screamed with delighted laughter, scrambling to crawl away. 

Craving resolution, Remus reached out to get Pad’s attention before he could chase off after Harry, “I promise never to leave without including you in the decision.” 

Sirius looked heavy, dark hair falling into his handsome face. He reached down to plant a warm, languid kiss on Remus’ lips. There was a tangle of emotions undercurrent in the embrace: love, fear, protectiveness, but the most prominent felt like devotion. A terrifyingly precious gift for Remus to accept. Eventually Padfoot pulled back, his grey eyes flecked with bits of blue today… like ice. 

“You had better.” He said, quirking a jet-black eyebrow to punctuate the command. Remus felt dangerously close to swooning, so he tried to look disgruntled instead, lifting his book for effect. Sirius smirked at this ruse. 

Harry let loose an impatient shout from across the room. 

“Alright! I’m coming!” Sirius took off after his godson. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feelings, am I right? 
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	5. ‘Love is a Flower in my Soul’

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life in Grimmauld moves forward & Harry turns two!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from Al Green’s “Love Song”
> 
> It’s my birthday today! So I wanted to share something kind with the world. Enjoy!
> 
> Thanks to @Horatio_Air_Horns for being a beta-reading badass! 
> 
> Thank you for all the wonderful comments, kudos, and encouragement! I am eternally grateful! 
> 
> Please forgive any typos.

**Winter, Spring, and Summer of 1982 - Isla**

Over the recent century Isla Black had learned to pace herself in circles, not unlike Sisyphus. Her journey was thus: she would travel from the attic, down the iron spiral stairs to the fourth level, through the bedrooms, down to the third, through the bedrooms, down to the second, through the bedrooms, down to the ground floor, and then into the basement to greet the place she took her last breath. Once she’d filed herself thoroughly with guilt, she would repeat the track. The repetition helped her keep a steady pace of time. After one hundred years of this, months could feel like hours and present moments… somehow already a memory. Time had indeed, become a funny thing for the Victorian spector. 

Isla had no qualms with deviating from her ritualistic loop through the house. She adored opportunities to learn. In the early 19th century she’d been limited mostly to learning from conversation, weeding out the most rebellious Black children to debate blood purity and wizarding politics. There was the occasional decade where none of the children would talk with her, in those times she’d scout out books left open to devore as much knowledge as she could. But inevitably, when the house was quiet and she’d read all there was to find, she would resume her cyclical path. The winter Sirius Orion Black returned home, she found herself deviating more and more... 

Isla liked Remus Lupin immediately, the young werewolf delighted in intellectual conversation and made an effort to leave reading materials out for her consumption. He, himself was constantly wandering around the house with a book, there seemed to be a rotation of five going at all times. ‘A few for distraction, and the rest to challenge myself,’ he had explained to her one snowy evening. 

Isla noticed that he tucked a book into a corner of every room. _A Witches Guide to Raising a Toddler_ in the third floor loo, _A History of Magic_ latest edition slid in with the cookbooks of the kitchen, _1984_ under the chair in Harry’s room, _Omens, Oracles, & the Goat _ in the parlor, and _Sense and Sensibility_ wedged between banisters on the third floor... were his collection this winter. 

Isla laughed to herself as she ran ghostly fingers through the Jane Austin novel tucked between balusters. It was after midnight, she was on her fifth loop through the house when she spotted a light in the Library. Stepping off to investigate, she found Remus pouring over multiple piles of parchment. His mousy curls wild from being pulled at and agitation rolling off his shoulders in near tangible waves. She snorted at this attire, clad only in an oversized plum jumper and drawers. He was a perfect picture of burning the candle at both ends. Since taking the Ministry job, Isla noticed Remus was struggling with time management.

“It’s time for sleep darling,” she stated firmly, causing him to jump. 

“I just need to finish this last bit,” he pleaded, while rubbing his chest from the shock. 

Isla noted the dark circles under his eyes, “No, Remus. Time for sleep. It can be finished tomorrow.” 

“I’d like to have it _ready_ by tomorrow... for the AM meeting.” He rubbed his eyes, smearing a bit of ink on his scarred cheek. Isla admired the twin ribbon of pink scars draped across his nose and into his top lip. He wore them as if he’d forgotten they were there, not a bit of self consciousness attached to his face. It was no wonder that her great grand nephew had eyes only for him. 

“Failing to meet our own expectations is a benefit, Remus. We gain valuable knowledge of our limitations.” He shot her a withering look. “Go to bed,” she pointed at the door. 

“I am an adult-” 

Isla held up a hand to stop the twenty one year old werewolf from lecturing her on his adultness. “Go tuck yourself around Sirius Black and fall asleep this instant, Remus Lupin.” 

He exhaled, eyes raking over the stacks of Ministry parchment. “Okay,” his shoulders caved in defeat, “Fine.” He huffed his way out of the library like a petulant child and disappeared into the couple’s bedroom. A room that had once belonged to her first niece, as well as three additional Sirius Blacks. She frowned thinking of her older brother Siri, he had an infinity for mounting magical game throughout the house. If she had a stomach, it would have turned at the thought of the furniture he’d constructed from troll appendages. Isla grimaced into the empty room, she hadn’t missed him for one moment. 

Isla chose to read over Remus’ Ministry notes before resuming her journey to the basement. His plans for expanding rights within registration were radical to say the least. She hoped the Ministry could keep up with the young werewolf’s stride. 

The snowy days continued into February and Isla watched Remus gradually improve at sleeping through the night. Which was for the best, as both wizards needed all their wits as they adjusted to life with a one-year-old. Sometime close to midnight, Isla walked into Harry’s room. 

The fire was crackling merrily, Sirius must have perfected the overnight charm on it. 

In the absence of Kreature, the young couple had developed several spells and routines to keep the house in order. Kreature left Grimmauld sometime in the New Year to take residence at Hogwarts, much to Sirius’ relief. The youngest Black was surprisingly uncomfortable with owning a house elf in his adulthood, perhaps sharing his life with a halfbreed shaped his conscience on the matter. She made a note to inquire on the subject later. 

Turning away from the fire, Isla noticed that Sirius was passed out in the chair by Harry’s crib. Curled in on himself, long black hair tossed over his face. He was by far the most beautiful Sirius in the line with his high cheekbones and bright eyes. Isla stole a quick glance at the dozing Harry before leaning over her great grand nephew, “Best to sleep in your own bed, darling.” 

He growled lightly at her but did not stir, so Isla ran a shimmering gloved hand through his face. “Sirius,” she whispered harshly. He startled at the sensation, she’d been told her touch feels like an ice bath. 

Popping his head up, “What?!” he blustered, blinking wildly. 

Isla caught his eyes, “Go. To. Bed. Sirius. Black.” 

“Yeah.” He agreed grandly, drunk on sleep. 

She nodded along with him, “Get up.” 

He stood.

“Great,” she encouraged him. “Now go downstairs to bed.” 

Sirius mumbled, “Moony,” and stumbled out of the bedroom. 

He was a delightful young wizard, a free thinker from the beginning... She nearly liked him as much as Remus. Isla ran her opaque fingers over the railing of Harry Potter’s crib. The sleeping child kicked about in his dreams, she couldn’t wait to hear his opinions on the world. 

“Good night little one,” She breathed. 

The snow finally concluded in March, and with it Harry spoke his first word: Peas. The vegetable, not the polite request. Soon after, he christened the household with their new names: Noony, Pafu, and Lala. Many a tofu themed jokes were made at Sirius’ expense, none of which Isla fully understood. 

Once budding started on the cherry in the back garden, Isla knew the warm weather would stick. Some time after, the third floor drawing room received a record player and began to flood the house with sound. The ghost found it incredible to have muggle music playing in a home built by her bigoted father. She received immense satisfaction from the dulcet tones and clever lyrics. Isla loved Al Green’s _I’m still in Love With You_ and Fleetwood Mac’s _Rumours_ best, but she was discovering new favorites every day. 

April’s supermoon was difficult for Remus, he limped home just after dawn and had to stay in bed for three days. Isla tried to quiet her great grand nephew’s fretting, but he wouldn’t sit still until Remus was back up and cracking jokes again. She marked the young wolf’s expertise at hiding pain. 

In May, Sirius started building things in the back garage. He mostly tinkered with machines, which Isla found dull. But to her delight, he emerged in June carrying a fascinating glass orb filled with vibrantly colored steam. 

“Remus’ mate Tavin helped me with the blood-binding.” Sirius informed her excitedly, devouring his lunch during Harry’s mid-day nap. “The colors change, accompanied by ringing, along with Harry wellbeing. Yellow being content, Orange is whinging, Red is tantrum, Purple is fear, and Navy is mortal peril.” He declared, joyfully, between bites. 

Amused by the contradiction between his words and delivery, Isla took in the sun colored vapor swirling in front of her. “Brilliant,” she complimented him earnestly. 

“So…” he started, somewhat awkwardly, “There will be no more need for you to get our… attention when he’s up in the middle of the night.” Sirius sipped his tea for diversion as Isla bit down a giggle. She’d been forced to interrupt a number of intimate moments between him and Remus when Harry needed attending to in the night. 

“As long as you two don’t come running _every_ time it’s orange. Letting him have a good cry does wonders for self-soothing and not every tantrum needs mending.” She scolded, gracious enough to ignore the other matter. “He turns two at summer’s end, he’s going to start pressing boundaries soon enough,” she warned him. 

Sirius sighed wistfully, not fully hearing her, “He’s already turning two.” 

“Will you throw a party?” Isla asked, attempting to draw him out of the misty mood he’d fallen into.

“Obviously,” Sirius scoffed. “Mary and I’ve discussed combining his and Dean’s, since they were born one day apart.” He took a bite of toast, “Just throwing a party here on the Sunday between.” He spoke while chewing. 

“Oh I like Mary!” Isla interjected. “I’m eternally grateful for the memory of Walburga’s screams as she was sawed out of the front hall,” she mused, letting a rare unguarded grin slip across her ghostly face. 

In agreement, Sirius blew a chief's kiss, “The source of many patronus to come.” 

Isla thought longly of her dove patronus, no longer able to recall how the joyful spell felt while casting.

Harry and Dean’s birthday came about in a whirlwind of baking and decorations. On the day, It seemed like less a child’s birthday and more an excuse to reunite the Order of the Phoenix. Isla hovered against a parlor wall listening in on the conversation between Hogwarts’ newest Headmaster, their Professor of Transfiguration, and Remus. 

“It’s been complete madness.” Remus threw back his head, responding to Minerva’s inquiry of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. 

An eyebrow shot up over her spectacles, “That bad?” She asked as Dumbledore sipped away at his brandy. 

“I’m _obviously_ a vanity hire. Every single proposal I’ve made to improve registration has been cast aside for ‘budgetary limitations’.” Remus laughed bitterly, air quoting the last phrase. 

“Hmm” Dumbledore considered, “Perhaps Wizengamot can throw some weight at it?” 

“Show off,” Minierva muttered into her mead before drinking. 

Isla slipped through the wall and into the kitchen, she’d heard her fill this summer of the young werewolf’s woes at his Ministry job. 

The kitchen was a considerably more festive room. The afternoon sun poured in through the opened window above the sink, brightening the colorful streamers floating midair. Plates of half eaten red and gold cake were scattered on every surface. Sirius was perched on the counter by the sink, holding a lively conversation with Mary, Moody, and Andromeda. Isla had been delighted to find little Dromeda in attendance today. She’d spent many a Black Family Christmas Party chatting happily with the rebellious middle daughter, and missed her dearly after she was cast out. 

Dromeda alone turned to acknowledge Isla’s entrance. “Welcome to the great debate,” she greeted, widening her chocolate eyes dramatically and pointing her wine glass at her fellows. 

Mary shouted, “That’s total bollocks Padfoot!” as Moody toasted to her in agreement and Sirius clutched his chest in indination. 

Isla smirked at the scene before turning back to Dromeda, “Where’s your lovely Nymphadora?” She asked over the commotion of Sirius’ rebuttal. 

“Oh, she’s in the garden,” Dromeda indicated the glass-paned door through the kitchen, propped-open to circulate summer air, “Alex and Hagrid have the babies out there.” She brought her wine glass to her lips, but was interrupted by Moody before she could drink. 

“Andromeda! You can’t possibly agree with the kid on this?” he demanded. 

Sirius sat up straighter, “Come on!” He pleaded with her, “Us banished Blacks have to stick together!” 

“On what exactly should I agree, baby cousin?” She sighed good naturedly, “I’m afraid I’ve lost the plot. Too busy catching up with the third member of our blood-traitors pack.” She lifted her goblet to Isla, winking. 

“This idiot,” Mary pointed at Sirius, “ _Actually_ believes that vanilla white cake is better than double chocolate.” 

Dromeda pulled a face, “No way Sirius, blood allegiance will only get you so far.” 

Moody shot him an, “Ah ha!” before leaning over and transfiguring the remaining birthday cake to chocolate. Isla agreed that it looked more appetizing now, though she hardly remembered the taste of either chocolate or vanilla. 

“Mary?” a low voice called from the open doors, as the witch in question’s spouse stepped into view. He was a broad, dark complected muggle, wearing thin silver-wired glasses, and carrying their child on his hip. “We need a Croquet referee.” He shook his head, looking very put upon, “Apparently there’s a wizarding version with a thousand more regulations!” Dean giggled on his father’s hip, waving little fists in the air. 

“Oh Alex, you champion!” Mary grinned at him, standing from her chair. “I’ll referee for you any day.” 

“Just come quick before Hagrid throttles me,” He vanished back into the frey. 

Sirius slid off the counter to meet Mary, “I’m joining! Prepare for defeat Hagrid!” He shouted into the garden as Mary shoved him through the doorway. 

The room fell into a comfortable silence in the younger wizard’s absence. Isla noted the familiarity between Moody and Andromeda, wondering at the nature of their friendship. 

After a beat, the scarred auror turned to Dromeda, “How’s that sister of yours doing?”

Groaning at the question, “That’s hardly a party conversation Alastor.” She replied, finally pulling a sip of wine. 

“Saw her husband last week while making my rounds in Azkaban.” 

“How _is_ Lucius?” She asked, interest piqued. 

Moody gave her a knowing look, “Already crumbling. That posh Malfoy upbringing made him soft.” He grunted in disgust. 

“I dodged a bullet there, huh?” she laughed bitterly, going for another sip. 

Both Moody’s mismatched eyes fixed on her keenly, “ _That’s_ who they wanted for you?” 

Dromeda nodded ‘yes,’ and some silent query passed between them. “Sissy inherited the match from me. As you’ve seen, arranged marriages are the base requirement of service to the noble and most ancient house of Black.” She looked away to chew at some dark memory. 

“Should I be worried about Narcissa?” The aurur asked frankly, drawing Dromeda out of her thoughts. 

“I hope not.” She heaved a great sigh, burdened with dismay for her younger sister. “But you’ll be the first to know if I’m concerned.” She held his gaze before draining her goblet. 

Moody reached out a leathery hand, his enchanted eye no longer trained on her. “You know? I think you were right. This _is_ terrible party conversation.” Raising his scarred eyebrows to convey what might have been an apology. Isla tried not to stare, she found their wordless communication a compelling challenge to read. 

Grateful for the reprieve, Dromeda brightened, “My turn then Alastor! Are you still seeing that Court Clerk Witch?” 

Moody pinked in the cheeks, “Well-” His response was interrupted by the front bell. 

Feeling suddenly intrusive, Isla left the conversation to investigate the garden Croquet match. As she neared the back door, Remus announced from the front, “Amelia and Agatha have finally arrived!” Isla stayed her course, planning to snag Agatha for conversation later. 

Grimmauld’s brick walled garden was a madhouse of wickets, Croquet balls, and wooden stakes. The fuchsia haired ten-year-old Nymphadora was a vision, with a scarlet mallet swung over her shoulder cackling loudly while pointing at a disgruntled Sirius. In a flash he changed into the massive black shepard and tackled her to the ground licking the arms shielding her face. 

“Gross!” She shrieked. 

“Nuffels!” Harry began clapping from Hagrid’s arms. The half giant carefully handed over the child to Mary so he could line up his next shot. The violet mallet was comically small in his beefy hands but Hagrid still managed to knock two in, earning him a high-five from Alex. 

“Nuffels!” Harry continued to chant as Nyphodora struggled, over fits of giggles, to get the massive black dog to heel. 

“Sirius?” Remus called from within the house. 

Balancing Harry on her hip, Mary marched over to pull the animagus back. “Your husband’s calling!” She teased as Sirius changed back and swatted her away. 

Isla shook her head at the chaotic scene, covering her mouth to hide the laughter underneath. 

The party continued in a similar fashion into the early evening, winding down as the sun set bright pink and purple in Claremont Square. The proceeding warm summer days passed in a satisfyingly slow progression, until a tell-tale crisp entered London’s air and Autumn finally reared its beautiful golden head. The days melted by for Isla as she circled Grimmauld and watched Harry Potter grow into another October. 

~*~*~

**Saturday, 30 October 1982 - Remus**

In the blink of an eye Remus apparated out of the Ministry’s Atrium and into his back garden. The night air was damp and thick with the chill of Fall. He inhaled deeply, letting his muscles unwind. This was his favorite time of year. Remus looked up into the night sky, stars hidden by light pollution. The garden was satisfyingly dark. After a long day of working underground, sparing a quiet moment in the air was essential. Remus closed his eyes to take in the sounds of London, a distant buzz of festive comotion could be heard on the Square. 

“Happy Halloween,” He whispered to himself before heading into the inviting warmth of Gimmauld. 

The kitchen smelled like curry. Sirius and Mary had taken on the project of mastering Euphemia’s family cookbook… to _varying_ degrees of success. Mary being largely responsible for the victories as Padfoot was still learning the basics. But you’d never catch Remus complaining about a meal. 

The mouthwatering spicy scent was all that lingered though, Remus kicked off his shoes inside the door and entered to find the kitchen already tidied from super. He was certain there’d be leftovers in the icebox, but he was sad to have missed a family meal. Wondering if Mary and Dean were still around, he set his leather satchel on the counter. All the iron appliances were original to the house and therefore ancient, but the mossy green cupboards and dark stone counters were Sirius’ additions. The space was a cheerful one, even at night. Remus noted the addition of a Fall themed bouquet in the windowsill. 

“Sirius?” He inquired of the empty room, wondering if Pads was upstairs. 

“In the parlor!” He heard his partner’s distant reply. 

Remus peeled off his coat and folded it over the bag, before hunting down leftover curry. To his delight it was green and therefore extra spicy. After casting a warming charm, he grabbed a spoon, and began tucking in while headed to the parlor. The curry was incredible and had Mary’s signature all over it. He loved Sirius, but there was no way he’d made this on his own. 

Following the miniscule constellations on the wallpaper, the young werewolf meandered down the front hallway. He passed the family pictures and standing grandfather clock, but paused at the oil painting they’d received from Emmeline Vance. He raked his eyes over the vast rustling field cloaked in inky darkness. Its starless sky dotted with a bright full moon, illuminated clouds shifting with the breeze trapped within its frame. He loved how both peaceful and daunting he found the image, it satiated some distant desire. 

‘Maybe the wolf?’ his mind suggested. Remus cast that line of thinking out. The full moon was due on Monday, no need to bother himself with it till then. Taking another glorious bite of curry, he stepped into the parlor. 

The hall’s wallpaper extended into the richly decorated front room. Everything was dark wood, deep tones, and heavy curtains. It was the kitchen’s perfect opposite. Remus was surprised Padfoot chose to lounge in here tonight, they didn’t use this room much outside of entertaining. 

Pads was sprawled out on the coal colored sofa, one foot propped on the opposite arm and the other dangling towards the floor. Harry’s orb sat on the coffee table, gentle yellow steam swirling within. He noticed Pads was reading the copy of _The Hobbit_ he’d hidden on the mantel. At his entrance, Sirius smiled up at him lazily over the pages. 

“You like it?” Remus asked, warm with curry and affection. 

“Reminds me a bit of Beedle and the Bard,” Sirius remarked, sandwiching the open book over the sofa’s back. 

“You didn’t lose my page did you?” Remus accused, setting his curry bowl on a coaster before crawling on the couch to draping himself over Padfoot's torso. 

Sirius feigned offence. “I would never!” he pouted, while wrapping his legs around Remus and threading warm fingers into the werewolf’s moppy curls, “It’s getting time for a haircut Moony.” 

Remus sighed, relaxing into Pad’s chest, “Do you think Mary’d do it for me?” 

“Oh I’m sure,” Sirius continued to scratch little circles into his scalp, “Just trade her one of the better bottles of Malbec.” Remus leaned into the touch, feeling his work stress slip away. 

“She and Dean come over for dinner?” 

“Yes. How’d you know?” 

‘Called it’ Remus thought smugly to himself. “Mary’s the spice queen,” he stated, indicating the bowl on the table. 

Sirius released an envious sign, “She is brilliant isn’t she? I can’t wait to cook on her level.” 

Remus mumbled in agreement, rubbing his cheek into the soft knit of Pad’s jumper. He made a mental note to steal it later in the week. 

“How was the Ministry?” Sirius asked, beginning to scratch down the back of his neck. Groaning with approval he adjusted to give Pads a better angle, “It was fine. Owling confirmations with the registered pack for Monday’s moon.” Remus kept his simmering emotions on the subject carefully in check, “More importantly,” He heartened, “I got lunch with Agatha and it was lovely.” 

“Aw,” Pad’s voice softened with fondness, “Owl me next time and I can join you with Harry.” 

“Done,” Remus agreed, relishing the idea. “Speaking of, is he out for the night?” 

“So far, so good.” 

“How were you today with him?” Remus asked, tilting up his chin to search for eye contact. 

Sirius exhaled heavily, pausing the scratching to lay his palms steadily across Remus’ shoulder blades. “All I could see was Lily and James in his face today.” He closed his eyes to the flood of emotion. Remus dropped his face to lay a kiss on Pad’s chest before closing his own eyes. They sat in communal silence, mourning the aniversary of their best friend’s murder. 

Once Remus felt the wave of grief in the room crest, he tilted back up at Sirius, “Did you and Mary give out candy to the muggle kids?” 

Padfoot slipped him a fragile smile, “No, but I did leave a bucket of sweets at the gate.” 

“You know some punk kid’s gonna nick it all,” Remus warned. 

Sirius brushed off concern, “It’s charmed.” 

With an approving grunt, Remus schemed, “Speaking of punks, when Harry and Dean get old enough we should start floating jack o'lanterns in the house like Hogwarts does.” 

“That shouldn’t be hard,” Sirius knitted his eyebrows, plotting the mechanics. “We can carve a special one for James and Lily.”

Remus nodded against the jumper, “Create a positive ritual.” 

They fell into another relaxed silence, chatter from the street trickling in through the heavy curtains. 

Sirius began to play with his curls, “I miss being with you on full moons.” 

Remus breathed through his knee-jerk reaction to evade, after a moment he replied, “It’s hard to know, but I think the wolf misses you back.” His fellow Marauder hummed happily in response. 

Sirius pulled at another curl, “Do you ever think about marriage, Moony?” 

Remus tensed, blindsided with the subject change, “Like as a concept?” 

Pads flicked his forehead, “No. I mean for us.” 

“I mean... no? We legally can't, right?” He asked, praying he wasn’t stepping into an argument. 

“Yeah,” Sirius lamented, “There’s no wizarding law for us.” 

“Where's this coming from Pads?”

“Mary keeps calling you my husband.” He answered, voice softening. 

“Well,” Remus looked up, “I have committed legally to raising Harry with you... and,” he took a breath, “That feels more significant than marriage to me.” 

Sirius traced a line over his jaw with gentle finger tips. “Yeah, me too.” 

Remus propped himself up further to survey Pad’s reaction. Long black hair messy from combing his fingers through it and grey eyes dark with sudden mischief. ‘That’s enough talking,’ Remus thought, sliding forward to capture Pad’s mouth on his own. Sirius returned the kiss with unhurried dedication, the night was young and Harry’s orb was a steady shade of gold. 

But as Remus snaked his fingers under the knit jumper, Pads pulled back gasping, “Bedroom! I’m not getting walked in on by Isla Black _again_.” Remus barked a hearty laugh, before apparating them upstairs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sighs* oh domestic wolfstar...
> 
> Drop a comment down below. I love hearing your opinions.


	6. ‘I’ve got the Life and I’m Going to Keep it’

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry turns three and four. Life continues to be weird and wobbly in Grimmauld.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from Nina Simone’s “I Got Life” 
> 
> Alright, this chapter was oddly challenging for me to write. I’m gonna blame the quarantine. I ended up cutting what I wrote in half to post this. I’m still working on the second half, so I should have the next chapter posted within the week. Fingers crossed. Go team. 
> 
> Thanks to @Horatio_Air_Horns for beta-reading and being kind. 
> 
> I am so grateful for the kudos, encouragement, and wonderful comments. You are all truly the best! Thanks for reading. 
> 
> Please excuse any typos!

**Tuesday, 18 January 1983 - Sirius**

Sirius stepped off the Knight Bus and into the bright midday sun, a rare treat for London in winter. He paused, letting it provide a tinge of warmth on his cheeks in the cold. This season, thus far, was considerably less bitter than its predecessor. Last January, it was as if the climate had been mourning Lily and James with him. All thick snows and record breaking colds. In contrast, the refreshingly mild weather around him was well within expectation for a English winter. 

He turned, heels scraping on the pavement, to scoop Harry Potter off the Knight Bus’ bottom step and into his arms. His stubborn little godson didn’t favor being carried much these days. Hand in hand, Sirius had let him walk from their seats on the bus, but the two-year-old would have to suffer through being carried to their doorstep. Once in the air, Harry spun to wave goodbye at the bus. 

“Knight Bus goes bye-bye!” He shouted, waving his little hand wildly. 

“Bye Harry Potter, sir!” The driver waved in return. 

Sirius nodded, adjusting his hold on the toddler, “See you next time, Ronald!” and in a flash, the Knight Bus had vanished into thin air. 

“Bye-bye... bye bus!” Harry continued to grant farewells into the now empty Claremont Square. 

“That’s right Har, make sure to tell them bye-bye!” Sirius encouraged, securing his grip on the squirming kid. 

“I go down now, peas!” Harry insisted, swinging around to face Sirius. 

“Nope, I’ll put you down inside.” 

“Noooo,” Harry whined, pushing harder against his confines. Sirius steeled himself for the oncoming tantrum. The little one had been exceedingly well behaved during their trip to Diagon Alley, he was sure to be worn out and therefore due for a fuss. 

“Nope.” He repeated, shouldering his dark leather catch-all bag and taking off towards 12 Grimmauld. Harry’s whining continued as Sirius juggled them through the iron gate and on to the stoop. 

Per usual, Diagon Alley had been an adventure with Harry Potter in tow. Everyone was ecstatic to see him, and he _always_ had a blast interacting with the shopkeepers. But Sirius was starting to feel trepidation around bringing his godson into the wider wizarding community. They all just fawned over him, as if they knew every detail about ‘The Boy Who Lived.’ There was also a regrettable amount of over-sharing from every witch and wizard who met him… and showering him with gifts at every turn. The result being, that with each trip Sirius found himself feeling more and more protective of Harry’s ambiguity. 

“Especially,” he thought out loud, “when you fuss like this afterwards.” Sirius vented, struggling with front keys while Harry was working up to a genuine fit. The young godfather took a long breath, sustaining the exhale as he flipped through the brass key ring. 

“Down. Now. Pease!” The toddler demanded as streams of tears began trickling down his cheeks. 

“You, my little man, are well overdue for a nap.” Sirius stated, swinging open the front door victoriously. Harry’s wails filled the hallway, echoing up the staircase, as his godfather kicked the door closed behind them. 

The ghost of Isla Black ascended from the floorboards, a vision in white lace. “Uh oh,” she shook her head at the weeping child, before sharing a knowing look with his captor. 

“Nap time!” Sirius confirmed over Harry’s angry thrashing, while toeing off his clunky oxfords. 

“Did he eat lunch in Diagon?” She asked, ever pragmatic. He didn’t know how he would manage Harry’s daily schedule without her reminders. 

“Yes.” 

“Then, I say you get him straight into his crib.” She instructed. Sirius didn’t need telling twice. He briefly considered apparating, since Harry was already in a tantrum, but he thought better of it. Not wanting to add fear to the storm of emotions raging in the two-year-old. 

“Come on little Harry Berry,” He sang, gripping the toddler tightly before marching them up the staircase. Thankfully, Harry’s door had been left open, because he was fighting with all his tiny might by the time they arrived. Once Harry realized their destination was the crib, he entered a new level of loud. 

“No Pafu! Bad idea! No nap. Not sleepy! NO NAP!!!” He screamed. 

“Yes nap,” Sirius countered, slipping off the furious child’s coat and miniature sneakers before plopping him into the crib. Harry sprung up to his feet in an instant, his tear stained face a mask of heartbreak, pleading with his godfather. Sirius felt his stomach turn, those tragic emerald eyes hit every single soft spot inside of him… and Harry damn well knew it. 

“Not sleepy Pafu.” He begged, “We play pirates!” 

“Don’t you dare, Sirius Black!” Isla warned from the door frame. 

He knew she was right, Sirius pulled out his wand to place a protective charm around the crib. With that, Harry knew the gig was up and fell immediately back into his tantrum. 

“No nap!” He screamed. “Bad idea!” 

Sirius grabbed Harry’s orb from it’s nestled spot on the arm chair, “We’ll play pirates after your nap. Sleep well little Berry Boy.” 

Harry wasn’t interested. Instead, opting to shout his godfather out the bedroom, “No Pafu! Big trouble,” he scolded, “Not sleepy!” 

Emotionally fried, the young Marauder closed Harry’s bedroom door soundly, before collapsing backwards against the cherry wood. 

He gaped at Isla, horrified, “He almost got me for a moment there.” 

The ghost smiled pityingly at him, “You’re such a softy, Pafu.” He sniggered at her posh pronunciation of his nickname, muttering a _silencio_ at the gently ringing crimson ball in his hands. Isla carried on, “Have you eaten since breakfast?” 

“Not really,” he groaned. 

Tutting at him, “See you in the kitchen then.” She directed, before floating off. 

“Yes ma’am.” 

He apparated promptly off the landing and into their sunny kitchen. Isla was the only person he didn’t mind bossing him about. She was always right, anyway. After unloading his coat, catch-all bag, and angry swirling orb onto the dining table, Sirius dug into the icebox for something to eat. 

“It’s just as important that you take care of yourself darling.” She reminded him, for what must have been the hundredth time that month. It was just so difficult now that Harry was demanding near constant attention. 

Frustrated, and fully aware that she was correct, he muttered, “I know, I know.” As his great grand aunt settled herself at the table. 

Sirius pulled out a carton of eggs, deciding that a fry up was the easiest option, and instantly felt overwhelmed by the prospect of cooking. 

Isla froze, as if hearing something odd, and then announced, “Remus has just apparated into the garden." It was funny how she could do things like that, sense changes around the house. 

Praying that nothing was wrong, Sirius pulled down a cast iron skillet. Food would be required if tackling another calamity was on the horizon. He faced the iron stove range as the back door swung open, revealing the second half of Harry’s godfather duo. Moony waisted no time stripping off his boots and coat at the door. 

“Forgot my lunch,” He informed the room while unwinded his scarf, “Just figured I’d grab a bite at home.” 

“I’m making eggs,” Sirius replied, feeling suddenly rather tragic at his undertaking. Moony knitted his eyebrows, pausing to gage the mood of the kitchen. Whatever he saw prompted him to stride over and offer a kiss, which Sirius was grateful to accept. 

“I can make eggs.” He offered, “Do you need a break?” 

“Yes." Sirius whined, melting into his partner's side. 

Remus chuckled, causing Sirius to bounce a bit, “No problem. Eggs, toast, and sausage?” He asked brushing back strands of black hair from his fellow Marauder’s face. 

“Breakfast again,” Sirius nodded approvingly. 

“Find me the sausage?” He asked, “We can fry eggs in the fat.” 

“You’ve never said anything so attractive to me,” Sirius teased, returning to the icebox. 

“Afternoon Isla,” Moony smiled, finally greeting the elegant ghost. 

“Hello Remus darling,” She returned graciously. 

“ _That_ is a very angry shade of red,” He noted, pointing at the orb with a spatula. 

Isla shook her head, “It was a tantrum for the ages.”

“Still is. Judging by the color.” Sirius added, handing over sausage and butter. 

“All the books say that’s par for the course with two-year-olds,” Remus sighed. “But it doesn’t make it any easier.” He lit the stove with his wand and tossed a pat of butter in the pan. 

Sirius crossed to retrieve the loaf of rye he’d bought in Diagon Alley, “I think I might start shopping more at muggle stores with Harry.” He said while hunting through his bag, “Leave Diagon for necessary purchases only.” He pulled out Moony’s six requested books, Harry’s pram, and three jars of herbs before he finally spotted the bread. 

“Did something happen?” Isla asked as Sirius tossed Moony the rye. 

“No?” He sat heavily in the chair next to her, “I just don’t like the way they all fuss over him there.” Remus glanced over from the stove, listening in. “I thought it would have run its course by now… but.” Sirius trailed off. 

“Do they still call him The Boy Who Lived?” Moony asked over the sizzle of cooking. 

“Yes!” Exasperated, he charged on, “No matter how many times I ask them to stop and they _all_ spoil him.”

“You two are bad enough.” Isla chided, “He doesn’t need it from strangers as well.” 

“Hey!” Moony piped up indignantly, “We spoil him just the right amount.” Rolling her eyes skyward, Isla bit back a retort. “Go by your instincts Pads,” he continued, “I can always pick up the things we need from Diagon on my way home.” 

Sirius nodded, thinking hard, “Having Mary and Dean around helps too.” He snorted fondly recalling the telling off Harry’d received from Mary just yesterday for making a mess of dinner. “She doesn't give him _any_ special treatment.” 

“Good lass that Mary,” Isla asserted. “Two-year-olds don’t need special treatment, they need boundaries.” 

“What about boundaries _and_ special treatment?” Remus offered hopefully from the stove. 

“Spoiling is the easy way out Remus Lupin,” She rebutted, “Boundaries are how you show someone you love them. We love Harry enough to pick what’s better for him over what he wants in the moment.” 

“Fair point,” Moony conceded, slicing the bread. 

“I just wish there wasn’t so much crying involved,” Sirius complained, somewhat pathetically. 

Isla shifted to address him, “He didn’t want to nap, but he needed one for his health.” She nodded at the orb which, to his relief, was gradually lightening into a bright orange. “He enjoys all the attention at Diagon Alley, but no growing child needs fame like that.” She caught his eyes sternly, “I’m with Remus, trust your instincts in this matter darling.”

“Alright,” He turned to Moony, “Mind picking up some muggle money from Gringott’s after work? I’ll make Mary show me how Sainsbury’s works.” Remus hummed a yes in response while carrying two plates of food to the table. “How are things in the Department?” Sirius asked before tucking into the eggs. 

“Useless as always,” he groaned miserably. 

Suddenly ravenous, Sirius felt prickly with hunger and fresh annoyance at the Ministry of Magic. “It’s been nearly a year of this Moony.” He grumbled, thinking of the daily emotional nicks the bloody job cut out of Remus and how he wanted all those pieces back. “Is it time to quit?” he proposed, feeling candid. 

Chewing slowly, Moony seemed to be heavily considering his answer. “Maybe? There’s been talk from a wizard named Damocles Belby, some hotshot fresh from Hogwarts, about developing a potion to curb the transformation.” 

Sirius gawked at him, “A cure?” 

“No. More like taming the wolf.” Moony replied evenly as Isla hummed with interest across the table. “Anyway, _if_ he’s successful it could be my first real bargaining chip with the Department for improving registration. Dumbledore said he’d advocate for me with Wizengamot.” 

Food forgotten, Sirius reached over to lace their fingers, “That would be wonderful... for everyone.” He added, noticing that Moony hadn’t mentioned the possibilities such a potion could offer himself. 

Remus rubbed his thumb over their knuckles, “It _could_ be. If Belby’s as good as he claims.” 

“And if he isn’t?” Isla inquired. 

“In that case... I’d be ready to move on from the Ministry,” Moony exhaled messily, attempting to arrange eggs onto his toast one handed. 

Sirius squeezed their joint fingers twice before letting go, “That sounds right, love. There’s more than one way to skin a Dragon.” Both the ghost and werewolf wrinkled their noses at the phrase, but they all knew he was right. Remus was too precious to keep losing pieces of himself to the damn Ministry of Magic. 

“There’s no use wasting your talents there darling if you’re unhappy.” Isla affirmed Sirius’ thoughts. “You can always advocate for Lycan legislation as a citizen, put the Black fortune to better use,” she added with finality. 

The idea hung in the air above the table as they all considered its potential. 

~*~*~

**Winter 1983 - Spring of 1985 - Isla**

In the two and a half years it took Damocles Belby to perfect Wolfsbane, Isla observed a great deal transpire at Grimmauld Place. After bearing witness to generations of neglectful, absentee, and in some cases even abusive parenting in her ancestral home, it was a wondrous gift for Isla to watch Harry be raised by a brood of loving parents. Even more a wonder to her, was that she found herself a welcome participant in the whole affair.

Harry’s second winter at Grimmauld continued into February and March in a similar fashion. The weather was mild, but the young Potter was rather turbulent. Sirius eventually got better at saying no to the little one, though he never perfected it. Thus Harry continued to get away with murder under _both_ his Godfather’s care... much to the chagrin of Mary Thomas and herself. 

When the temperature warmed and Spring rain eased into London’s daily routine, Remus started making a conscious effort to separate work from home. He began volunteering to care for Harry and Dean most weekend nights, as to give Sirius and Mary time away from childcare. Isla could see that Remus missed his godson during the work days. The weekends slowly became their family time together. On occasion Mary’s husband would join the young werewolf on those quiet nights with the toddlers. One particular May evening Isla found all four gentlemen sat contentedly in the Library, with the windows propped open, and a gentle breeze rustling the curtains.

“How’s it going over there boys?” Remus called over a copy of _The Daily Profit_ from his position in the plumpest of the room’s armchairs. 

“Good!” They replied in unison, looking up from Harry’s enchanted train set. The duo was sprawled out on their tummies, mirroring each other’s posture, equally inthralld with the scarlet steam engine circling before them. 

“I’ll never get used to that,” Alex remarked, pointing at the lively image of Barty Crouch Senior delivering a speech under the headline: _Exclusive Interview! ‘The Year After My Son’s Trial_.’ 

“Want to trade?” Remus asked affably, indicating Alex’s stagnant copy of _The Times_. 

World weary, Alex folded up his paper, “No thanks. I’ve had my fill of news today.” 

“Here, here,” Remus agreed “I get more than enough at the Ministry. Don’t know why I even pick it up at home.” 

“What’s it like working for a magical Ministry?” Alex asked, laughing at some unspoken joke and sipping on his wine. 

“I imagine it can’t be too different from yours.” 

“I wouldn’t know.” He shrugged, “I’m a psychologist for the Ministry of Justice. They wouldn’t have me touch legistiatioin with a barge pole.” Alex took another sip 

Lifting his tea from its perch on the chair’s arm, Remus considered the statement. “I don’t know much at all about Muggle Psychology.” 

The other father bristled, “No need to add ‘muggle’ it’s just psychology.” 

“Sorry,” Remus amended. 

“No harm.” He assured, “I just don’t fancy the label, it feels condescending.” Alex spoke while adjusting his wire frames. 

“I certainly wouldn’t want every action in my life labeled ‘werewolf’,” Remus sympathized. Astonished, Isla marked the respect he must hold for his companion, as the young werewolf rarely brought up his condition unprompted. 

Alex raised his eyebrows, humming in agreement, without pursuing the subject. “I think you’d find psychology fascinating Remus. I can bring you some reading material, if you’re interested?” 

“Always happy for a good book,” The Marauder saluted with his tea before downing it. 

Isla found Alexander Thomas intriguing, she hadn’t known many muggles through the years and he was nothing like her late husband. His curious eyes observing steadily through silver framed spectacles, his mind sharpened and ready to catch every little detail from conversation. Alex was a steady and quiet sort, a lovely complement to his talkative wife, and an affectionate father to Dean. He and Remus were skilled at hearing the boy’s needs, while Mary and Sirius’ strengths were more with giving instruction. 

Isla’s late husband Robert Hitchens loved to hear himself talk, he’d spun endless tales for her entertainment during their courtship. Bob could turn the blandest occurrences of daily muggle life into the most fascinating of adventures. She’d never met anyone like him before or since. Feeling suddenly lachrymose, the ghost made a quick exit, craving solitude to grieve the memory of her husband. Craving stability, she began her circular path to the basement. 

As Spring melted into Summer, Harry’s affinity for tantrums lessened. With his third birthday on the horizon, the boy grew more expansive with his emotional expression. He began to favor curiosity over commanding instructions. Everyone in the house agreed this was a grand improvement over the arduous bickering of his ‘terrible twos.’ 

That Autumn they transitioned the three-year-old into a ‘big boy’ bed and Sirius started adding a nap of his own into the midday routine. This extra dollop of sleep improved her great grand nephew’s resilience by leaps and bounds. He was gradually getting better at taking care of his needs around Harry’s, but Sirius still had a long road ahead. He was more than happy to throw his godson’s or Remus’ or Mary’s or the damn mailman’s needs ahead of his own these days. 

Isla wandered into the Drawing Room during one rainy September naptime to inspect the copy of _Sidhartha_ Remus had tucked beneath his favorite chair. She sighed wistfully, having always dreamed of visiting India. She struggled to recall what he’d told her about the Budhist text. Something about ‘detachment’ helping him with full moons. She made the mental note to request reading it once he was finished.

Bloodstained lace trailing behind her, Isla floated into Harry’s bedroom next. Where she found the child awake from his nap and playing pirates quietly by himself . 

“Hi, Lala,” he greeted from the carpet, before gently crashing two ships together. 

“Good afternoon, Harry darling. How long have you been awake?” She inquired. 

He sat up to consider his reply with much severity before finally brightening to chirp “Um. Not long!” 

Isla chortled, time meant nothing at his age. He may have napped five minutes or a whole hour, as a specter she could certainly relate. 

“Shall I go wake your godfather then? It might be time for lunch.” 

“Can you tell a Bob story first?” He asked, as she began phasing through the floor. 

Slowing her decent to answer, “Certainly. I’ll tell you about Bob’s disastrous attempt at making muggle beer before bed tonight. How does that sound?” Harry bounced his head with approval as she melted into the second story. Isla had been doing her best to recount the happy memories of her first life. So far the three-year-old approved greatly of Bob’s shenanigans. In Isla’s mind, displaying impressively early signs of an excellent judge of character. 

A decade ago, stories like that would have been whispered late at night while her blood-purest ancestors slept soundly in their hatred. Under _this_ family’s roof, her fondest memories of love were a benefit to share, not be ashamed of. She enjoyed sharing as much as she could with Harry. 

Isla floated down from the ceiling into her great grand nephew’s bedroom. The heavy curtains were drawn open, allowing the tapping of rain outside to fill the room pleasantly. Sirius was submerged within the comforter, no doubt curled into a ball, only a rogue barefoot exposed. 

“Mr. Pafu?” She called into the messy room. The twenty three year old inhabitants were clean, but a dreadfully untidy couple. Clothes strewn about, books piled right and left, no telling what the bathroom looked like... “At least they keep it contained to this area.” She remarked thinking of the kempt kitchen and lounging rooms. 

“Sirius!” She called, waving a gloved hand through his foot. 

“Huh?” He sat up under the blankets. 

“Harry’s up,” she declared, as he dragged the comforter off to reveal his sleep patterned face and messy black locks. “Lunch time.” 

“Alright, I’m up.” He mumbled, heaving himself off the bed, “Thanks Lala.” 

Halloween and Christmas went by smoothly. Harry, rightfully so, was passed out well before midnight on New Years. But Sirius and Remus stayed up to toast champagne with Isla and slow dance to Prince’s _Purple Rain_ at the stroke of twelve. Isla thought the song was a bit long-winded, but the couple simply adored the new album by the American royal. 

“He’s not actually royalty, Isla.” Remus informed her, while spinning Sirius to a guitar riff. “The US isn’t a sovereign nation.” 

“Then he must be mocking us!” She expressed with a jolt. 

“Prince couldn't care less about us.” Sirius grinned. “I think he’s just claiming a royalty of his own, that dreamy bastard.” Isla turned to pick out the next album as they danced well into the night. 

The Victorian ghost paced Grimmauld in familiar circles through another winter. Alex continued to periodically drop off books on psychology for Remus, and the young wolf added them to his endless rotation of reading. Sirius received his first commission for a magically enhanced vehicle. He was to remodel a stylish MG convertible for Elphias Doge, and thus he spent most his evenings toiling away in the garage. Meanwhile, the three-year-old Harry started articulating his thoughts with new clarity and was interested in everyone’s opinions on every subject imaginable: ‘Noony, how do stars get up there?’ ‘Where do carrots come from, Pafu?’ ‘Lala, what is rain?’ 

Isla was in unfamiliar territory with the maternal role she found herself in. She had plenty of experience formulating a healthy baby’s routine. But hardly any experience answering the query of a developing child. Usually by this age, The Black children’s parents were desperate to keep Isla and her opinions far away. As Harry grew older and burdened with more complex questions, she hoped that the answers she provided would serve him well. Who could know? But she tried her best to be honest above all. 

“Why are you dead, Lala?” He asked one cold evening, after she’d discovered him awake well after bedtime. 

“My mother killed me,” She replied simply. 

Harry’s eyes grew wide as saucers, “Is that what mothers do?” He asked in a hushed tone. 

“No, only the terrible ones, love.” She hastened, “Think of your Aunt Mary and how much she loves Dean and loves _you_ as well.” 

Harry concentrated, taking in this new piece of the puzzle. “Yeah, Aunt Mary loves me big.” He grinned up at her. 

“So much.” Isla affirmed gently, “She’s a great mum. She’d never hurt you or Dean.” 

Harry nodded, “So some mums are great and some mums are...” he paused recalling the word she had used, “Tear-ba-ble?” 

“Ter-ri-ble.” Isla pronounced slowly, “It means bad or nauty.” 

Harry was taken aback, “Your mum was _nauty_?” He understood the damnation of that particular word quite well after many a telling-offs in his three years of life. 

“Yes, she was,” Isla’s reply was grim, as she tried her best to keep that night far from her feelings.

“Wow,” He acknowledged gravely, before pausing to consider, “Was my mum nauty?” 

A tremendous sorrow crashed over Isla causing Harry’s eyes to fill with tears. She reeled back, as a ghost she had the unconscious ability to spread her emotions outside her body. Being content in her recent afterlife, this skill mostly surfaced to sooth or brighten moods during Harry’s upbringing. But this question caught her by surprise… and mothers were a tough subject in this house. She struggled to reign her heartbreak in, apologising, “No darling.” She ached with the desire to brush the tears from his cheek. “Your mum’s name was Lily and she was very good and loved you so so much.” 

Harry scrubbed his cheeks, “Then why’s she gone?” he asked. 

“Because someone ter-ri-ble killed her.” 

“I wish she was dead like you Lala. I wish she could be my friend.” He whined as fresh tears sprung from his deep emerald eyes. 

“Me too darling. Would you like me to get your godfathers? They could give you a hug?” 

“Yes, please,” Harry replied, covering his face as he began to cry in earnest. 

Isla woke the Marauders and the three of them piled up in Harry’s tiny bed to share stories about Lily and remind her little son just how fiercely she had loved him. 

As Spring returned again, Sirius planted an herb and flower bed with Harry in the back garden and shortly after Remus informed the household that Wolfsbane was in its testing phase. 

“It could, perhaps, become a reality.” He announced one April morning over breakfast. 

Isla saw the fragile hesitation in the young werewolf’s words. 

“Well, alright.” Sirius replied with purposeful calm, before stealing a slice of bacon from his plate, “Get me an ingredients list and I’ll start storing things up.” 

Remus snached his bacon back, “I’ll see what I can do.” Sirius pulled a face before leaning over to plant a kiss on his partner’s cheek. 

Two stories above, Isla heard Harry’s tiny feel land solidly on the wooden floor, “Harry’s awake!” She announced. 

It was a rainy spring and a damp summer that followed. Harry and Dean spent nearly every week playing together. The three-year-olds made quite the goofy team. They would design nonsensical games to play with their parents and somehow always win. The rules ever changing in their favor. By summer’s end, she noticed that Harry was prone to taking the fall for any mischief the pair got into, as Noony and Pafu’s punishments were more tame. A bit too clever for the ghost’s liking, she’d be keeping an eye on the development of that particular scheme. 

Harry and Dean’s fourth birthday party was a small but cordial affair. The two families gathered on the warm August night between boy’s birth dates to share cake and dance to records in the back garden. Remus levitated jars of fireflies and Sirius bubbled in the sound so they could play as loudly as their heart’s desired. 

Isla waltzed around a leaping Harry Potter when Nina Simone's _Love Me Or Leave Me_ was played. She and the young messy haired boy had deemed it ‘their song’ when Sirius brought the Simone Live album home that month. 

"You know that's Nina on the piano!" Alex remarked as Mary swept him up into a dance. "She studied to be a concert pianist."

"What a badass," Mary smiled into his shoulder, as she spun him around. 

"She was definitely that!" Her husband agreed while dipping her. 

“There’ll be no one unless that someone is youuuu!” Isla sang sweetly to Harry as he spun around and Sirius twirled Andromeda out of her seat and into the grass. 

The party continued well into the night until the birthday boys passed out in their chairs. Mary, Alex, and Dean ended up spending the night in the fourth floor bedrooms. 

The September moon that year was challenging for Remus, he reopened a scar on his neck and had to stay a few nights in St Mungo’s to recover. As usual, he put on the bravest of faces once he was home, but Harry had become quite adept at cutting through the fat in conversation. 

“Pafu said you got an ouch.” Harry informed Remus. 

“Yes,” He looked over his godson’s head to Sirius. “An ouch indeed,” he confirmed. The three wizards were snuggled into Remus’ sick bed on his first night home. 

“Lala said it was the wolf.” Harry added. 

“That’s two for two, Harry Berry. The wolf did give me this ouch.” Remus winced, resting his head back on the pillows Sirius engorged for him. 

“Why does the wolf hurt you?” Harry asked. 

Remus closed his eyes, “I don’t know. I think he’s angry.” His voice was thick with raw emotion. Isla saw Sirius trail light fingertips up and down his partner’s arm as he took over answering Harry’s questions. 

“We all get angry sometimes,” Sirius picked up the thread. “But the wolf can be a real bully.” 

“What a ter-ri-ble bully wolf,” Harry scolded fiercely. 

Remus caught his fellow Marauder’s hand, blinking open green eyes. “Well said Harry, let’s leave the wolf be now. Why don’t you pick something for Pafu to read to us?” The four-year-old seemed content enough to move past the wolf discussion, but Isla knew there would be more to come on that front. Until then, Harry was happy to pick out _several_ books and Remus easily guilted Sirius into reading all of them. 

The young werewolf healed quickly and during the following Halloween Harry’s godfathers introduced a tradition of floating jack-o-lanterns throughout the house. The gourds stayed fresh for days without the candles ever burning low, a subtly clever display of magic from Sirius. Harry designed a special one just for his parents and insisted on personally explaining it to every guest who entered the house. 

“Hmm,” Minerva Mcgonagall pondered with a finger over her pursed lips, “So _this_ pirate is your mother?” She asked, pointing to the first figure carved on the pumpkin. 

“Lily,” Harry explained. 

“Yes, Lily, you got her likeness spot on,” The scottish witch whispered conspiratorially to Harry. “And this is your father?” She indicated the stag Pirate Lily was riding. 

“Prongs,” the child nodded seriously. 

“You know I never met your father’s animagus form, but I’m confident you captured his essence.” Minierva praised a preening Harry Potter. 

“Well Pafu carved it for me,” He confessed. “But! I drew it first. Want to see?” the four-year-old asked, dragging her towards his bedroom. 

“Only if it’s tidy in there,” She halted, crossing her arms. “I can’t abide a messy bedroom.” 

“One minute!” Harry panicked, dashing in to clean up his toys. 

“I’ve never seen him rush to clean so quickly,” Isla praised the Hogwarts Professor. Minerva grinned back like a cat who’d caught the canary. 

As the leaves disappeared and a genuine cold set into the London air, Grimmauld began to glow nightly with cheery winter fireplaces. Harry was finally old enough to help pick the Christmas tree, despite Sirius’ lamenting he chose a spindled crooked thing. The family dressed it up the best they could in the drawing room. Remus insisted it had great character. None of them could have guessed that as the snowy weeks drew closer to Christmas, Mary would change everything by sharing her troubling news. 

“We’re gonna have to move in with my mum and dad in the New Year,” she informed Sirius as they cleaned up supper. The boys were back upstairs playing in Harry’s room and Remus had wandered off. 

“Why?” Sirius asked cautiously. He paused from packaging leftovers to give his full attention to her. 

“They’re taking cuts in Alex’s department.” Heaving a sigh, Mary cast a _scourgify_ into the sink. “Things are tight enough as is and the rent’s bound to go up in January.” She answered, avoiding his eye. 

“Don’t your parents live out in Eridge?”

“Yeah.” She clipped, stress mounting in her shoulders. “Alex will commute into the city.” 

“Mary, you’ll hardly see him if he’s spending over an hour on the train everyday.” 

“Oh will I?” she snipped at him, “I hadn’t realized!” Rolling her eyes, she cast another cleaning spell for good measure. 

Her lash-out slid off Sirius like water, “No Mary,” he pushed on, “Move in here. He can get to work in under 30 minutes and you won’t have to live with your mother.” 

“What?” Mary stuttered, finally looking at him. 

“Would you mind Lala?” Sirius shot over to her. 

“Not one bit,” Isla replied easily, earning her an affectionate wink, as Mary continued to bluster behind him. 

“I couldn’t possibly,” Mary insisted. 

“We have an entire unused fourth floor for Merlin sakes, Mary!” Sirius waved off her concern while turning back to Isla, “Is Moony with the boys?” 

“No. Library I believe,” She replied trying to tune into the werewolf’s quickened heartbeat on the floor above. 

Sirius crossed to the entryway, shouting up the stairs, “Moony! Can you apparate to the kitchen please?”

A moment later the twenty four year old Marauder popped into the room carrying a small stack of books. “I’ve got these for Alex, if you don’t mind bringing them home with you?” He asked before registering Mary’s anxiety and Sirius’ elation. “What’s going on?” He asked, perplexed by the contradiction before him.

“What do you think of Mary, Alex, and Dean moving into the fourth floor?” Sirius asked from the doorway. The two Marauder’s held eye contact, silent conversation darting between them. 

“Sure,” Remus shrugged to Mary. “We’re closer to Alex’s job anyway, right?” Then a shadow fell over his expression, “Only thing is, street parking might be a bit dodgy around here.” 

“I can extend the garage!” Sirius supplied. 

Remus pointed in agreement at the other Marauder before turning back to Mary, “You lot tired of your flat?” 

For the first time in her knowing of the witch, Isla thought Mary looked small. “Things have been challenging at work,” she said in a faint voice. 

Remus promptly set down the books to stride over to her. “Mary,” he said, taking her shoulders, “After everything you’ve done for us, you can stay at Grimmauld as long as you like.” He glanced over at Sirius and received a silent affirmation. “Besides,” Remus carried on. “We’ve got an entire fourth floor we never use!” 

“That’s what I said!” Sirius slung from across the room. 

Mary looked back and forth between her old school mates, her fellow order members, the friends she’d chosen to raise her son around. “Okay. I’ll talk with Alex,” her smile charging up slowly. 

“Hope he’s ready to quadruple the amount of magic in his life.” Sirius laughed, to which Mary stuck out her tongue. 

“He’ll adjust.” 

“We might have to instal some of those outlet things for him,” Remus pondered. 

To which Sirius’ eyes lit up, “I can electrify the fourth floor! I’ve been reading through Tesla’s published notes and I’ve got some charm modifications I’ve been dying to try out.” 

“Merlin help us! We’re moving into a death trap!” Mary cried. 

And so it stood that 12 Grimmauld Place, at last, would be properly occupied for a Holiday Season. The two families spent Christmas and Boxing Day lounging around the house lazily and threw a small party to celebrate their New Year. The following winter was a joyfully chaotic one, as the house finally felt alive and bustling with the two families. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come: Wolfsbane for Remus and what the heck in going on with Narcissa?? 
> 
> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Feel free to let me know your thoughts.


	7. “One Beast, One Howl”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus if forced to feel his feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from ‘Burning Your Boats, Collected Short Stories’, by Angela Carter. 
> 
> Thanks to @Horatio_Air_Horns for beta reading and being an awesome human! 
> 
> Thanks to you all for the encouragement and kudos. It always means so much!
> 
> There are bound to be typos, please forgive them.

**Friday, 5 April 1985 - Remus**

Remus apparated straight from Agatha’s chaotic overstuffed office into his back garden. The memory of her farewell etched into his conscience, ‘Things aren’t meant to stay the same, Remus.’ 

The young werewolf looked skyward. Being early dusk, the clouds above were stained with a jolly golden orange. He turned to absorb the everchanging Spring flora around him. Their flower bed was vibrant, celebrating the warm rainy weather with its many blooms. In the bricked corner, Grimmauld’s ancient cherry tree sat sharing fragrant buds with the evening air. But all this calm beauty felt leagues away to Remus, his pent up anxiety had grown so vicious that he was afraid he might be sick. 

With shaking hands he dropped his leather satchel to the lawn. Remus took a steadying breath, willing his hands to still. Not ready to brave the kitchen, the twenty five year old Marauder needed a moment to rally before facing his family. He glared down at the discarded bag, knowing that his last portion of Wolfsbane sat within.

He thought of all the places the wolf has roamed through his life. The cramped basement his father constructed for him. The place he learned to soothe his mother by burying his own fear. The Shrieking shack, where the wolf grew older and began to lash out. The Forbidden Forest, with its reckless freedom and forged friendships. All the mismatched places Sirius had found for him after school: cellars, attics, the deepest parts of distant woods… the last had always been a frightening and desperate measure. And finally his Ministry cage, lined and stinking of silver. A sterile hole carved out for him in the bowels of his wizarding government. 

With all his might, he wanted to keep these dark things separate from the home he’d built here with Sirius. Pacing a wide circle in the grass Remus let his mind wander to all the disastrous things that could come of his transforming in Grimmauld. Why hadn’t Agatha stopped him? What had they been thinking? How could he have wanted this? 

“It’s not too late,” He muttered to himself, “I could go back to the Ministry right now.” Words Remus had never expected to voice. For the last four years he’d fought and hoped for this, for the freedom to choose where he could transform. But now that the reality stood before him... it felt wrong… and _he_ felt wrong for wanting it in the first place. 

“Moony?” Sirius questioned, torso sticking out of the back door. 

Annoyed with himself for not leaving sooner, he pivoted, forcing a smile. 

Not fooled, Padfoot asked warily, “You coming in?” 

They’d talked this over for weeks, making plans for his first Wolfbane moon. 

“Yep.” He scooped up the bag and marched across the garden like the brave Marauder he was. ‘Even when the plan turns sour, you don’t back down,’ James used to say. 

Instead of welcoming him inside, Pads slipped out of the door and closed it lightly behind him. “Are you okay?” He asked, chewing at his lower lip. 

Remus halted, feeling his partner’s concern wash over him. Needing to ground them both, he reached up to run a thumb over Pads worried mouth. “It’s just nerves,” he assured before dropping a kiss onto those beautiful lips. His favorite lips. 

Leaning in, Sirius wrapped solid arms around him. They were each searching for stability in the other. Like scraping at a barrel, there wasn’t much to find in either place. Padfoot finally broke away to confirm, “I’m nervous too.” With no reply needed, the couple held each other in silence. 

Remus closed his eyes, tucking Sirius under his chin. He heard the faint bustle of distant London, a breeze rustling at grass, and finally the measured breathing of the person in his arms. Setting a steady tempo for them both. With all these things combined Remus felt his worry lower a single degree. Excellent timing as always, Mary burst from the kitchen to shatter their hard earned calm. Ready or not, time to face the kitchen… he pushed everything down and fixed a smile. 

“Your godfathers are getting fresh back here Harry Potter!” She called, before winking and ushering the pair inside. 

“I want to get fresh!” Harry exclaimed from his seated position on their newly engorged dining table. Remus snorted hopelessly at Pads while unlacing his boots. The Kitchen was noisy with the work of cooking and smelled amazing. Mary had her dark curls piled into a messy bun and was sporting a pair of electric blue geometric earrings. 

“In time, little one.” She consoled from behind the counter. 

Alarmed, Remus yelped, “Don’t give him any ideas Mary!” Before kissing her cheek and crossing to greet Harry and Dean. 

“It’s Wolf Boys Night, Moony!” Dean pronounced from his chair, to which Remus shot Mary and Sirius twin accusatory glares. 

“Is that _what_ we’re calling it?” He grimaced to the four-year-olds.

With sudden severity, Harry pulled Remus down to his eye level. “The wolf’s in big trouble tonight,” He stated. “No more bullying and no more hurting, okay Moony?” Remus felt a pang in his chest. 

“Okay,” he said robotically, smile leaving his eyes. He wondered what Sirius had told him. 

Harry was not satisfied. “No hurting yourself Moony,” he insisted. “It’s not good.” 

Chest tight, Remus breathed, “Alright. No hurting.” Knowing full well he had absolutely no control over what the wolf would or would not do.

Mollified, Harry opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted with a long howl from Dean. Harry broke into fits of giggles at the sound and began joining his friend. 

“Werewolves of London!!” The boys sang between wolf calls, causing Sirius to bury his face into Mary who was doubled over with laughter. 

“Have we been prepping with Warren Zevon?” Remus asked, standing up and returning to his casual facade. 

“Alright, Alright,” Sirius waved at the boys, “Inside voices gentlemen. You’re going to disrupt Lala’s reading up stairs.” 

“And the neighbors five buildings over!” Mary added. 

“And the Knight Bus across town!” Remus finished. The boys lowered the volume of their howls to a whisper and continued to sing in hushed voices. Remus regarded them with a tiny genuine smile. 

“Have you taken your last potion?” Mary asked as Sirius loaded plates for Harry and Dean. 

“Not yet, the final bit’s in my bag.” He answered, lifting his shoulder to her. 

“Well go ahead and choke it down Remus,” Mary commanded playfully, “So you can follow it up with some of this fantastic lamb.” She bragged, pointing at the delicious smelling stew on the iron stove. 

“Can you save my portion for tomorrow? I don’t want to risk tossing it back up during transformation.” He replied, forcing nonchalance, as Pads caught his eye. 

“Oh,” Mary sobered with a bit of embarrassment. “Of course,” She amended with her own evenly managed tone.

Feeling guilty for bringing down the room's playful atmosphere, Remus decided to cut and run. “I’ve got some books for Isla,” He piped up. “Let me know when Alastor gets here.” Sirius shot a tight smile from the counter and blew a kiss as Remus apparated into the Library. 

With a crack, Remus landed next to the fireplace. 

“Well, that was a dramatic entrance.” Isla noted, from her seat at the round table. He’d clearly started her, the ghost’s hand resting daintily at her throat. 

“Sorry, needed a quick escape from the kitchen’s mania,” he sighed, soaking up the quiet and pleasingly musty scent of the most fantastic room in his house. 

“I can certainly relate.” 

“Have they been listening to _Excitable Boy_ all day?” He complained. 

“ _W_ _erewolves of London_ is an excellent song, Remus” She admonished, brushing off his sullen mood. 

Bristling, he reached into his work satchel, “Well anyway, I got your plays.” Ready for a subject change, he produced the collection of scrolls. 

“Oh lovely!” Isla beamed, “I’ve finished the tragedies,” she indicated the Shakesprearian works piled at the table’s edge, “and I can’t wait to start on the histories.” Her eyes fell hungrilly on the bundle in his arms. 

Remus tipped his burden onto the table and crossed to tidy up the ‘read’ pile. Brandishing his wand at the assortment, he neatly transfigured them back into books and with a flourish, swept them into their appropriate shelves on the bookcases.

“Do you wish to read chronologically?” He asked the ghost. 

She nodded ‘yes’ humming with contentment. Remus sighed at the comforting sounds of her enthusiasm. He felt his chest relax another degree as the room settled into the calming sort of chill unique to Isla’s presence. 

“ _Accio_ King John.” He declared, catching the scroll and rolling it out for her perusement. Isla tucked into the story, pausing occasionally to laugh or remark on a quib. While Remus settled into his favorite chair to stomach his final vial of Wolfsbane for the month. 

The taste was appalling, but Remus would drink a dose every day if it meant no longer waking up bloody. If it could relieve the chronic stress of impending violence. If such a thing was _truly_ possible. If, if, _if_... Belby’s recent trials had been a blanket success, meaning several Werewolves were already reaping its benefits. But still, a nasty voice in Remus’ head taunted him that it would not work... that he was a brand of monster that couldn’t be tamed. 

“Just drink it Darling,” Isla interrupted his thoughts, “I can practically hear you stewing from across the room.” He obeyed, tipping his head back to finish the blue liquid in one gulp. “That’s better.” She heartened as Remus fought his gag reflex. 

With that done, the odd pair settled back into a quiet more appropriate for such a room. The ghost, returning to her reading as the wolf sunk himself into plump cushions, hoping for a kip before Moody arrived. He closed his eyes, absorbing his companion's faint murmurs and...

“Evenin Mrs. Isla.” 

Remus was startled awake by the familiar grunting of Alastor Moody. 

“Good evening Mad Eye.” He heard her repy, while stretching in his seat and spinning to take in the room. The wide, scar-covered Auror was limping towards him, laden with two tea cups and a bowl of stew. 

“This is for you.” Moody announced, handing over one of the china cups. Remus recognized Pads’ anti-spilling charm hovering round its rim. Smiling, he mumbled the counter at it and took a gracious sip. Alastor sat heavily in the chair next to him, “And these are for me!” He gloated, taking a hefty bite of lamb and tapping his own tea. 

Remus tipped his cup, “Cheers.” Welcoming his mad old friend. 

“My pleasure,” he rumbled while gulping down another bite. Remus’ stomach growled at the spicy aroma, but after twenty years, he knew better than to eat supper on a full moon. 

“And thanks for being here tonight,” he added over Moody’s chewing, as the blue eye swiveled over to fix on him. 

“I’d have come for this alone,” Alastor lifted the bowl. “As for me staying over? Better safe than sorry is always the right bet, my boy.” he dipped his head in respect, “You never know with new potions. Best to have me here and not need me.” He stated matter-of-factly. But Moody’s validation had an instantaneous effect on Remus. Every deep seeded fear of what could go wrong that night, was set loose to roam. 

“Right.” Swallowing thickly, “Well, anyway. Thanks,” he fumbled, trying to push down the fresh wave of dread. 

Moody shot over a lopsided grin, “Any time Lupin.” 

With the Aurur’s enchanted eye still trained on him, Remus checked his wristwatch to find it was nearly 8pm. He was already feeling restlessness in his limbs from the oncoming change. “Four hours till moonrise.” He acknowledged, “Are the boys in bed?” Remus tried to sound light while battling with himself inwardly. It was with a gross effort that he finally pushed the worry out of sight to put his full focus on the wizard before him. All the while, the blue eye never wavering... perhaps it felt his oncoming change as well. 

“Yep, tucked in for the night.” Moody replied over the bowl, “I came to find you after Macdonald and Black shepherded them away.” 

Remus scoffed, his stomach tight, “You _know_ she goes by Thomas now.” 

“Old habits,” He shrugged. 

“How’s the Auror Department?” Remus asked, craving distraction. 

“Business as usual: bickering from the new recruits as Fudge continues to be worthless. You know, Amelia Bone’s already got a new secretary? Second one this year.” Remus sniggered at the gossip as Moody charged on to the next subject. “Saw your proposal for the Lycan Registra. Nice and thorough,” he praised. “I think your biggest battle will be funding the Wolfsbane.” 

“Yeah, it is pricey.” He agreed, switching gratefully into his pragmatic work brain. 

“And no easy feat to make.” 

“I’m in talks with Saint Mungos on that front. My thought is if I can get the Ministry to fund even _half_ of it, we can secure enough private donations to cultivate a monthly supply.” 

“Oh I’m sure that won’t be a problem,” Moody said slyly, looking around the Black Family’s remodeled and ornate Library, “Regardless, the motivation for the Ministry is apparent. Registration’s bound to triple if we can supply free Wolfsbane.” 

“Desperation does that,” Remus muttered darkly. 

Moody carried on, “It’s a strong proposal and I’ll back you anyway I can.” Remus sent a silent thanks, as Moody finished “That daft department’s lucky to have you Lupin.” 

His feelings were so mudded on the subject in his current state, he didn’t quite know how to respond. 

“Enough work talk you two,” Isla complained from afar. 

“Yes ma’am!” Moody relented, as Sirius entered the Library offering a welcome diversion. 

“You’re up.” Padfoot noted affectionately. “Did Mad Eye wake you?”

“Yes,” Isla answered before Moody could deny the claim. 

“Villains in every corner!” The old Auror accused the snickering Victorian ghost. 

Sirius strode the room to perch himself on Remus’ chair. “Mary and Alex say good night.” Remus bobbed his head, accepting the well wishes. “And the boys too obviously,” Pads added as an afterthought. Remus shut his eyes and leaned into his partner’s side, accepting the offered support and comfort waiting there. 

“I’m starting to get that pent up agitation.” He confided as Pads began to play with his hair. “I could easily start running up and down the stairs till moonrise.” 

“We could run up and down the stairs?” Sirius replied simply. 

“No, I’m okay.” He looked up to catch Pad’s grey eyes, dark like dampened stone in the evening light. 

“Alright, well the offer stands.” He plucked at a few more curls, “I know we’ve been back and forth on this Moony, but I want to be down there with you tonight.” 

“Come on Pads.” Remus huffed, worn too thin to have this debate again. “It’s too dangerous. What if something went wrong?” 

“What would go wrong? You said the potion makes werewolves practically docile.” 

“But Moody said-”

Sirius turned to the Auror, “What did you say to him Mad Eye?”

Taken aback, Moody blinked, “We were talking about how clever his revisions for the Registry are?” 

“Alastor said, and I quote ‘you never know with new potions.’ They’ve been stirring this wolf subject up for the last hour.” Isla ratted them out from her safe distance. 

Sirius rounded on him, “What the hell Mad Eye? Hasn’t Belby said it’s got a one hundred percent success rate?” He looked back and forth between the two of them. 

“Well yeah, but-” Remus started. 

“But what?” Sirius demanded, “You might be the _singular_ outlier?” 

“You never know,” Moody warned.

Sirius shook his head at them, as Isla tutted from over her reading. “You bleak bastards.” Rubbing at his face with annoyance. “The first breakthrough we get in a lifetime and you’ve both decided that it won’t work.” 

“If something goes wrong, you’d be trapped in a very small space with an angry dark creature. You _know_ I’m being sensible Pads.” 

“Fine, go it alone then Moony.” Sirius stood up, “I’ll just go to bed.” 

Remus caught his hand. “Please stay,” He asked quietly, he hadn’t expected Sirius to leave. 

Clearing his throat, Alastor stood up, “Whatcha reading over there Isla?” The Auror limped over to her, granting them a bit of privacy. 

Pads caught Remus’ eye, he was clearly hurt. He seemed torn, but didn’t drop their joined hands. After a moment he sank down to the floor and looked up at Remus expectantly. Bothered by the height difference, he slid off the cushions to meet on eye level. 

Sirius was first to break the silence, “So you want me to stay and take care of you now. But when it gets scary and painful, you want me to just walk away?”

“Yes,” Remus looked down, “Please.” 

Sirius reached forward to tilt up his chin, “Why is it so important that you do this alone?”

“In the last four years, I’ve gotten used to doing it alone.” Remus exhaled shakily. “It’s hard enough bringing this into our house… adding the possibility of you getting hurt is too much for one night.”

Pads traced a thumb lightly over the scar on his lips, “Why is it so hard to believe that tonight will go well?”

“It just is.” He said quickly, Sirius seemed to be waiting for more. “I keep trying, I promise, to make it feel true... that the Wolfsbane will work. But it just won’t stick.” He confessed. 

“I wish you’d let me help you.” 

“But only on your terms? I’m asking for help right now. It’s only different from what you want to give.” Remus countered feeling defensive. Pads froze, exhaling frustration through his nose. They sat in a heavy silence. 

“Okay.” Sirius relented, “We’ll take it one thing at a time. I’ll stay.” Biting at his lip, “What book’s under there?” He asked, knowing all of Remus’ hiding spots. 

“Bagshot’s latest bibliography.” Remus softened with relief and thinking of the dense tomb hiding under his favorite chair. The old witch had such a distinct literary voice. 

Sirius wrinkled his nose, “Want to read it to me?” He asked, looking not at all excited at the prospect. 

“It’s a little dry, how about I read something more lively?” Remus offered, feeling waves of gratitude, each one different from the last. He couldn’t risk the wolf with Sirius but the thought of waiting until midnight without him was awful. He reached down to plant a kiss in Pads’ palm, “Thank you.” 

“You’ll see Remus,” He rubbed gently at the scarred cheek, “Next month, I’m going to be down there with you. Because it’s going to be okay. We’re going to be okay.” They held eye contact, green on grey. Sirius seemed to be willing the words to be true, like an incantation. Pads then turned to Moody and Isla at the table. “What book do you want to hear Mad Eye?” 

Scars twisting with his responding grin, “I haven’t been read to since I was a child.” The old Auror said wistfully. 

“We are very practiced at reading aloud here,” Lala explained. “What with two four-year-olds in the house.” 

“I’m game.” Alastor thought long and hard. “Knights of Merlin’s Table,” he finally thundered. 

“Done!” Sirius summoned it, shaking off his previous mood to step back into hosting. He then insisted that Remus read the young adult wizarding novel aloud to the room. Hope used to do this when Remus was little, read with him to kill time on full moons...Sirius knew that. 

‘Merlin’s Table’ was one of his’ favorites as a boy, this version of Camelot framed Arthur Pendragon as an additional knight of the mighty wizard Merlin. Chronicling their noble adventures to unite the realm. Until! The treacherous Sir Arthur tricked Gryffindor’s sword away from the lake’s water nymph to steal the English throne. After several refills of tea and a smattering of applause from the group, Remus finished the story feeling a sense of young giddiness, amplified by the moon’s closeness. 

With the divertissement over, the change was growing more demanding. Agitation itching at his neck and down his shoulders. 

Somehow knowing it was there, Sirius rubbed his hand down Remus’ arms before collecting the book. “Let’s head down,” He stated while rounding up dishes and tidying up with his wand.

Moody marched the Marauders to the basement. With every step Remus could feel his muscles twitching with the desire to stretch and thicken. In an effort to even his heart rate he began counting breaths. 

“I’ll clean those,” Alastor levitated the dishes away from Padfoot. With a sudden fierce authority Moody swung open the heavy basement door for him. Not one single part of Remus wanted to enter the space below. Alarms were ringing through every instinct he had, ‘It's a trap. It’s a cage!’ Sirius wrapped a cold palm around his now feverous arm, “You can do it.” 

Remus slowly descended into the claustrophobic room. 

There were no windows or doors, besides the lone iron and silver lined entry. The walls and floor had been transfigured into a thick malleable material, in hopes of reducing the wolf’s self harm. Utilitarian, the space lacked any warmth, like a black void in the pit of his home. Why had he constructed it this way? All those years ago. It didn’t need to be this bleak. Remus turned to the door. 

“Thanks Moody,” he gave a trembling nod. In response the Auror slammed shut the door, clicked the multiple locks, and then slid the view open to bid farewell. 

“I’ll be checking on you Lupin,” He stated before stepping aside for Sirius. 

His grey eyes seemed inexplicably bright in the dim room, “See you soon love.” 

Remus nodded. “You will,” and then Pads was gone as the view was scraped closed noisily. He stood in defining silence for an unknown amount of time… until his heartbeat elevated to the point of pounding in his ears. 

Remus pulled off his sweat drenched shirt to pace the room’s circumference. He couldn't tell if this transformation was any different yet. So far, it felt the same. Remus threw his head back, feeling his teeth sharpen. In a moment of fleeting panic, he wished that Sirius was here with him. Childish. His jaw snapped loudly as it elongated before his bleary red eyes. He doubled over as bones splintered and stretched within his flesh. It hurt, but not any more or less than usual. Then, with a flash, he realized what was different: he was thinking. His mind was clear. A searing pain rippled from his fingers as the nails grew in. The wolf could feel the Moon raging at them through the walls, calling. So they rose to answer, howling into the night. 

~*~*~

**Saturday, 6 April 1985- sometime around 4am - Sirius**

Sirius felt like hot garbage. He had barely slept, pestered with errant thoughts and worries all night. He could no longer tell the difference between dreams and wake, it got muddied hours ago. There had been howling at some point from the basement. ‘It had to have been earlier in the night.’ He thought, ‘But it hadn’t lasted long. A good sign. Something different.’ 

Sirius had restrained himself from checking on Moony. Upholding his promise... even though the whole thing felt needlessly painful for everyone involved. Sirius was trying to get better at listening. He tossed under the comforter, eyes rough and itchy. Feeling, rather pathetically, that maybe a good cry was in order. ‘Listening is stupid,’ he decided that he hated it. Then he heard a faint crack outside of their bedroom door. Remus must be back.

'Merlin knows what time it is,' Sirius groaned inwardly under the covers. ‘Apparating is a good sign though,’ he thought wildly. 'Moony probably isn’t injured.'

The door creaked open and Remus shuffled towards their bed. Sirius felt the smallest twinge of anxiety. ‘Please let it have worked,’ he sent out into the ether. 

Moony pulled back the blankets, the room was still dark. Sirius looked up at his fellow Marauder, “Hey.” 

Remus smiled down at him, stark naked. His eyes raking over the scarred plain of Moony’s body, there weren’t any fresh wounds or broken limbs. 

“Hey,” Moony whispered back. 

Sirius scooted over, Remus crawled under the blankets and wrapped him up in strong arms. He shifted around to tuck his head into Moony’s chest. They sat like that for a moment, wrapped in the darkness, under thick blankets, tangled up, until Sirius realized Moony was crying. 

Feeling warm tears collecting in his hair, Sirius squeezed tighter, “That’s right, let it out love.” Running a wide palm up and down soothingly as Remus began to cry in earnest. Sirius wiped tears of his own on Moony’s sweat dried and dirty shoulder. They’ll need to clean the sheets tomorrow. Or today. Whichever, time didn’t feel real this early. Sirius continued to rub long circles around Remus’ spine until he tapered off into silence. 

“So it worked?” Sirius asked into his shoulder. 

Remus nodded into the blackness. "I mainly slept. Thought about you and Harry, Isla and the Thomases. I could feel you all above me." He said tearily. 

"Sounds nice," 

“I woke up and,” he sniffed, “all I could think about was the little boy. Little me." There was a pause, “Almost Harry’s age.” He continued, “Trapped in his parents basement. Convinced that he’d never go to school. Or make friends. Or fall in love. Or get to have a family-” he broke off into another sob. 

Sirius held Moony close, “We’re not going anywhere Remus.” Then he thought of the little boy, “You deserve this life here with us. You deserve the Wolfsbane and the big breakfast we’re gonna eat tomorrow.” Moony squeezed him back. A weary silence fell over them, Sirius felt himself drifting in and out of sleep again. Eventually Remus flipped over, he tucked himself into Moony’s back and the pair fell into a deep exhausted sleep. 

~*~*~

**A number of hours later - Remus**

Remus woke with a start, it took him a moment to realize where he was. Padfoot’s arm was fashioned tightly around his torso, face squashed between his shoulder blades. He could feel the hot breath brushed against his spine. Remus peaked open the blankets. He must have apparated back to bed at some point after the moon waned. 

Then he remembered crying in Padfoot’s arms. His heart ached at the memory. He ran a hand tenderly over Sirius’. Afraid he might cry again Remus slowly peeled himself away and hobbled towards the shower. 

Their bathroom was small, lined in sea green tile and dotted with brass fixtures. Sirius was experimenting with what plants he could grow in the damp atmosphere. The floating orbs of gentle sunlight for the greenery were more than enough for Remus’ sore eyes. He marveled over his body in the mirror, littered with scars from the past, but not even a bruise from last night. Satisfaction leaking into his bones, he jumped happily into the rush of steamy water. 

Rivlets of vitalizing warmth ran down his back from where the stream hit his shoulder. Feeling limber and awake, there was no way he’d fall back asleep. Remus felt he could run a marathon in his healthy body. Beaming into the water as it brushed over his face, he thought suddenly ‘Sirius was right.’ He was going to be okay. 

“We’re going to be okay.” He promised, barely audible through noisy water. He took his time cleaning off the sweat and dirt with a milky bar of soap. After changing into trousers and his favorite of Pads’ jumpers, Remus jogged down the stairs and towards the kitchen. Because he could. Because his body was whole, and could happily bound down the stairs. There he found Mary and Alastor sipping quietly at large mugs of coffee. 

“Morning love,” Mary greeted him serenely, before raising the coffee pot in silent query. 

“Yes please!” He clasped his hands in thanks. 

“Moody made it,” She warned, “It’s outrageously strong.”

“Good man.” Remus clapped Alastor’s shoulder at the table before taking a seat. 

“Glad to see that I wasn’t needed.” He stated before taking his next sip. 

“Moody said he checked on you around 3am and you were curled up like a little puppy,” Mary cooed, handing Remus a cup of the thick black brew and joining them at the table. 

He blushed, feeling young around his old friends and vulnerable from all the crying. “Yeah, I guess there was no reason to be so nervous.” 

“Aw,” Mary cut in, “There’s always something to get nervous over. Especially when we’re forced to tackle our oldest fears.” She held his gaze lovingly, “But I'm so proud of you Remus. For being brave and facing it head on.” He reached over and squeezed her hand, silently returning her affection. 

Moody cleared his throat, “You three Order members have made this place a very safe home.” he complimented, in an awkwardly grave attempt at matching Mary’s tenderness. She giggled at him over her cup. 

Remus felt washed out in the best way. Wiped clean and ready to tackle the Ministry and his next transformation and anything else the world had to throw at him. He wished suddenly that James was here at the table. Complaining about Mood’s think black coffee and congratulating Remus on a job well done. 

As if summoned by the memory of his Dad, Harry Potter could be heard howling as he descended the stairs. Dean made up the rear, singing loudly “Werewolves of London!!” The two appeared, side by side, in the door frame. 

“Morning lads!” Remus turned, saluting the duo, as Mary and Alastor chuckled behind him. 

“We didn’t get to see the wolf!” Harry whined as Dean returned the salute with vigor.

“When you’re older, loves.” Mary chirped brightly while Remus braced himself for his first sip of Moody’s coffee. 

“Maybe,” Remus revised, flinching from the bitterness and reaching for sugar. 

“Watch this Lupin!” Moody perked up. “I taught ‘em last night.” He boasted, turning to the four-year-olds “What does Mad Eye always say?” 

In unison the boys bellowed, “CON-STANT VIGILANCE!!” 

Mary smacked her forehead in disappointment as Remus roared with laughter. A sound he hadn’t heard from himself since he was a very young Marauder, scheming around Hogwarts with his three best mates. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I started this story March 2020 when my city's stay-at-home order began. I'm now back at work and writing has gotten extremely difficult. My job is physically exhausting and the pandemic is emotionally exhausting. Hell, even JK herself made it difficult this year for me to engage emotionally with writing in this world.  
> Regardless, I have no intention of dropping this story. I'm just taking a break and trying to be patient with myself creatively. I have lots of ideas of how I will carry this AU through the series I loved so much as a child. I have so many characters I'm excited to add and so much love to shower on everyone. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> Drop a comment below in the meantime💕


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